Patience is Key
by Marie Kenobi
Summary: When a simple return trip takes a turn for the worse, Qui Gon and Obi Wan find themselves in a situation where the Force is elusive, times are bleak, and not everything is as it seems at first glance.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Patience is Key  
Author: Marie Kenobi  
Time Period: Five years prior to TPM (Obi-Wan is 20)  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: All recognizable Star Wars characters are the exclusive property of the almighty Jedi Master, George Lucas. I am not being paid for any of this. Although if George would like to use my work, I'm sure we could work something out. ~_^  
Enjoy!  
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Chapter 1  
  
"Do you think they will actually give us a break this time?"  
  
Qui-Gon Jinn looked up briefly from the mission report he was working on that had to be turned into the Jedi High Council upon his and his apprentice's arrival back on Coruscant. "I don't know, Padawan. The Council seems to have deemed us as their favorite Master/Padawan team to torture."  
  
The elder man paused, then smiled gently and motioned for his young protégé to kneel. Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped away from the pilot's seat and dropped to one knee as Qui-Gon swiveled to face him. Qui-Gon reached out and tugged affectionately on the Padawan braid dangling from behind the younger Jedi's ear.  
  
"I sometimes shudder to think about what kind of person I would be today were it not for you, Obi-Wan," he began, a far-off look in his eyes. "I cannot imagine a time when I walked through the Temple halls without you faithfully by my side. To think-I almost did not take you as my Padawan. I realize now how foolish I would have been. Not to mention, the Council would not have us to amuse themselves with. I thought-I thought you should hear that."  
  
Obi-Wan blushed under his master's praise, the likes of which he had not heard in so much detail in a very long time. "Thank you, Master," he whispered, then awkwardly stood. "Would you care for some hot tea, Master?"  
  
"I would like that very much, thank you Padawan."  
  
Obi-Wan inclined his head slightly and headed to their ship's small galley. With a weary sigh he leaned against the waist-high counter in the galley and stared out a viewport opposite him. Outside, billions of stars streaked past in a light blue blur. The Council had been running him and his master ragged with mission after mission. Despite the fact that they hadn't spent a night in their own beds in over five months, they still had not failed in a single mission. They worked too well together to let that happen.  
  
That was why the Council kept them jumping from one solar system to another. Even injuries had only postponed their departure, and still they did not get the privilege of sleeping in the privacy of their own rooms. While one rested in the healer's ward, the other kept constant vigil from a waiting room.  
  
Their last mission had been quick and easy though, a rare treat. They had been asked to oversee the induction of a planet's new king.  
  
Now they were on their way to Coruscant for a little R and R.  
  
At least I hope so, Obi-Wan thought glumly, pushing away from the counter…and immediately being thrown back into it before he was literally yanked off his feet and slammed into the opposite wall. The back of his head slapped hard against the cold metal, making his vision dance momentarily. An explosion, whose origin was unknown at the moment, shook the ship and shattered the viewport. His back was sucked up against the small hole, blocking most of the escaping air, but not quite all.  
  
Obi-Wan heard the engines whine. Outside the ship, more explosions went off.  
  
They were under attack. It was the only reasonable explanation.  
  
The cups that he had set out, along with numerous other utensils, came hurtling towards him pulled by the space vacuum. But because he was so much bigger than the broken viewport, he was a much better target for the objects to hit, rather than fly past. A chipped cup pelted his cheek. He felt liquid brush against his skin, although he was unsure if it was blood or water. The ship pitched violently from a blast, throwing Obi-Wan to the left and out of the path of a china plate given to them by the King from their most recent mission. It shattered into tiny pieces before being sucked through the hole and out into space.  
  
Now on the floor, Obi-Wan stumbled to his hands and knees, teetering from blurred vision and gasping for breath. The air that was vital for his existence swept past and all around him in a screaming rage. He realized if he didn't move soon, he might never move again.  
  
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Qui-Gon turned back to the controls after watching Obi-Wan disappear down the hallway. It was hard to believe that the awkward 12 year old boy who had nearly given his life away for him, was now a handsome, strapping young man, recently turned 20. Although Obi-Wan had changed a great deal, he still retained that same boyish face he'd had when he was younger. It sometimes gave him an advantage in battle, fooling his opponents into thinking he was inexperienced and naïve. But the characteristics one might expect to go with such a young face had fled Obi-Wan's mind and body many years ago.  
  
There was one thing though that Qui-Gon could think about that hadn't changed with the aging of his Padawan at all: his loyalty. Obi-Wan was always ready to lay his life on the line for his master or whatever he felt was right, even if it wasn't always the will of the Force. Which, occasionally, made for some interesting scenarios. He was also self-less, always thinking of others. He was becoming a fine young man and would make an even better Jedi Knight.  
  
Qui-Gon leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths, glad to be returning home. He would catch a few moments rest while waiting for Obi-Wan to return. Because the ship was in hyperspace, the controls did not need to be constantly monitored. After all, it wasn't like anything was going to happen…  
  
Suddenly, the ship came to a grinding halt and Qui-Gon was thrown forward in his seat. His face danced upon the control readouts before he was able to regain control again and reel back. Behind him in the direction of the galley, Qui-Gon heard a heavy thump and the howling symphony of air and objects rapidly being sucked into space. His first thought was of Obi-Wan.  
  
Qui-Gon scrambled to his feet and looked between the controls and the hallway. He had to decide what was more important to him-his life or his Padawan's.  
  
Qui-Gon ran towards the galley.  
  
In the distance, the image of a large cruiser began to grow. It opened fire unmercifully.  
  
He was halfway there when another sharp blast shook the small Republic mediator ship, followed quickly by a second. The small weapons system and communications had been knocked out. Qui-Gon stumbled when another hit made the ship lurch to one side. He hit his head…and did not get up.  
  
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Obi-Wan crawled through the galley, moving forward by inches instead of feet as more oxygen was pulled from the ship and he was forced to slow down. When the doorway to the hall came into view, he reached for a handhold and sank to the ground. He was not sure if he could gather enough of the remaining oxygen in the room to crawl the last few feet to the door.  
  
And if that was the case, he decided, eyeing the 'close' button on the door control panel, he wanted to make sure Qui-Gon still had a chance.  
  
Obi-Wan reached out with his right hand, preparing to harness the Force and seal his fate when he spotted the scuffed and dirtied soles of a pair of rugged, brown travel boots-Qui-Gon's boots-in the hall.  
  
With his determination to live renewed, Obi-Wan took in a huge, lung-filling breath and crawled forward, intent on his destination. He pulled his legs up protectively against his chest when the door to the galley swished shut behind him. Obi-Wan paused for only a few brief seconds to breathe in the fresh, abundant oxygen he found in the hall before scrambling to his feet. He fell to his knees when he reached his master's side and cradled the older man's head in his arms. Obi-Wan checked his pulse and nearly collapsed with joy.  
  
Qui-Gon was only unconscious; he was alive!  
  
Half-carrying, half-dragging his master, Obi-Wan returned to the cockpit as the ship rocked violently from side to side. When he looked out the viewport for their attacker, he was surprised to see a Togorian warship quickly fleeing in the opposite direction. Togorian pirates never left the site of a possible profit without first checking it out.  
  
A soft beeping sound pulled Obi-Wan's attention to the control panel. Readouts told him their weapons, communications, hyperdrive, navigation, and life-support systems were rapidly declining in power. A small feeling of panic began to arise in his stomach. He refused the urge to vomit as it attempted to overwhelm him.  
  
Obi-Wan gripped the controls of the ship and attempted to keep it under control. With the navigation system now completely down and the maps unable to be pulled up, he couldn't find out where they were. The only thing Obi-Wan knew was that they were somewhere between Yana, the planet they'd left, and Coruscant.  
  
Something twinkled in the distance. Obi-Wan squinted and leaned forward in his chair, as though doing so would help him see better. Far ahead in the distance, he could make out a large, bright star. But that wasn't just any star-  
  
"A planet!" Obi-Wan exclaimed softly.  
  
The young Jedi adjusted a few controls on his ship and thrust the steering mechanism forward. He knew nothing about the planet, but if he could just land the ship, it would give him time to work on the communications system and possibly contact the Council.  
  
With a lurch, the vessel started forward.  
  
The closer they got, however, the more confident he became that the planet was inhabited and safe. That is, until the ship began bucking and rocking. Obi-Wan fought desperately for control as they sliced through the planet's atmosphere. He glanced around frantically for a place to land. Not far ahead was a small field that blended into a dense forest of tall Jubian trees. A thought entered Obi-Wan's mind briefly as he glanced with concern to his master. Qui-Gon had told him once that Jubian trees grew only on a few planets, none of which were in the Republic.  
  
It would be hard to get help here.  
  
A light on Obi-Wan's right began flashing for all its worth. They had passed the point where the landing gear should be let down. The young Jedi growled low in his throat, afraid to take his hands from the controls long enough to hit the landing gear button. But he did, and he waited agitatedly as nothing happened.  
  
The landing gear had been damaged!  
  
They were too close to the ground now with too little remaining energy for him to pull the ship back up. "I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan murmured through a clenched jaw. Sweat began to grace his brow. He'd pulled off crash landings before, but not with these conditions.  
  
As the ground rushed up to meet them and Obi-Wan found there was nothing else he could do, he threw himself over his unconscious master. The ship's belly scraped across the land before its nose wedged into the disturbed soil. Smoke billowed around it.  
  
Obi-Wan used his remaining strength to shove the seat that had been ripped from its place off of him and his master. He heard a bird chirping merrily through the broken viewport. It caused his throbbing head to hurt even more. The young Jedi took a deep breath and closed his eyes, passing out from exhaustion. 


	2. Chapter 2

Hi everyone! Sorry to have taken so long to get chapter 2 out. I do want to let you know that the story is already finished, so you won't have to wait for me to write and type it. I am, however, having problems with the formatting and that is why it has taken me so long to post this one. I think I have it figured out now, so hopefully they will come out sooner. For the time being, stuff between these: * will indicate italics. Thanks go out to the six people who reviewed chapter 1, and now, to end my rambling, we go to the story. ^_^  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
  
Enjoy!  
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Chapter 2  
  
*I need to retire…*  
  
Qui-Gon slowly opened his blue eyes to be blinded by the light of the sun.  
  
The sun?  
  
Clutching his head, Qui-Gon rose with a grunt. He glanced around, taking in the sight of their mangled ship. His last conscious thoughts revolved around leaping from his chair before the ship's controls and running towards the galley before there was simply*…nothing.*  
  
Which of course, he thought dryly, explained the large bump on the side of his head.  
  
The only way for him to still be alive was for someone to have piloted the battered ship to a crash landing. It was at that particular moment that realization dawned on him.  
  
"Obi-Wan!" he exclaimed.  
  
The Jedi Master knelt down beside his apprentice. He pushed the Padawan braid off his face where it had landed some time before. "Padawan mine," Qui-Gon spoke quietly, gently probing the training bond, but still earning no response from the boy. It worried him to find that Obi-Wan was not fighting for consciousness, which meant either he too had hit his head rather severely or had just passed out from exhaustion. The Jedi Master fervently hoped it was the latter.  
  
Rocking back on his heels, Qui-Gon pulled his comlink from a side pouch and frowned as it came out in numerous broken parts, obviously crushed by his great weight when he fell. A quick search through Obi-Wan's tool pouches revealed no comlink whatsoever, leaving the older Jedi to wonder just what had happened to it.  
  
Hoping beyond hope that at least part of the ship's systems worked, he struggled past Obi-Wan and large bits of debris to the mangled controls, accidentally-and unknowingly-kicking a small, silver device under the one chair that was still attached to the floor.  
  
It was obvious before he even reached the control panel that all systems were down.  
  
Which left him a very interesting question indeed-Should he leave and attempt to find help? Or stay until his Padawan awoke?  
  
Qui-Gon took one look at his unconscious apprentice and felt his insides twist. His heart told him to stay of course. But the Force, oh the blasted Force that was always right, told him to go, told him to leave his young, helpless-  
  
Helpless? Where had that thought come from? Obi-Wan had never been helpless, not even in his darkest times. He was a Jedi, and a darn good one at that. Qui-Gon squinted through the broken viewport and nodded to the air. He would leave Obi-Wan and go get help. The Council should be contacted to inform them of their need for a ship.  
  
Qui-Gon knelt and brushed the dried blood on his apprentice's cheek, watching as the young man flinched in his dreamless sleep. He reached out through the Force and sent a blast of healing energy, accompanied by a message.  
  
*{Hear me, my young Padawan. I'm going for help. Stay until I return.}*  
  
Straightening back to his intimidating height, Qui-Gon stumbled to where the door was. Knowing the controls did not work, he unclipped his weapon, ignited it, and cut a large hole in the side of the ship. With one last look at his apprentice and a wave of encouragement sent along their bond, Qui-Gon pushed his way through the newly made door and limped through the small field they were in. He opened himself up to the Force completely, suddenly feeling lightheaded and let it guide him into the forest of Jubian trees. Where, hopefully, he would find help beyond.  
  
When at last his large form was swallowed by the shadows, the Force gave a violent shudder.  
  
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Obi-Wan awoke with a cry on his lips. Whimpering, he rolled from his back to his side and curled into a ball. His head exploded with pain, a warning of what was to come dancing just beyond his reach. He realized he and Qui-Gon were in danger, but what that danger stemmed from he did not know.  
  
Gathering his strength, Obi-Wan pushed himself to his knees and reached for a handhold to help haul himself to his feet. He was halfway up when the Force pulsed wearily. Obi-Wan retreated inwardly for a brief moment to assess his condition. Nothing serious-a small cut on his left cheek, a few bruises and scrapes on his arms, a small concussion accompanied by a large, purple bruise on his forehead, and the beginnings of a black eye.  
  
Not bad, he thought sarcastically. Not bad at all.  
  
The apprentice noticed the disappearance of his master immediately. He was tempted to go search for him when a memory struck his clouded mind.  
  
*I'm going for help. Stay until I return.*  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head and scowled. That was just like Qui-Gon to leave him behind.  
  
With a sigh, he walked over to an overturned storage box and sat down, hiding his face in still shaking hands. Within moments the young Jedi was asleep.  
  
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The next time Obi-Wan awoke, he found himself tangled in the folds of his cloak. The ship was freezing. It must be winter on the planet, he thought, wiggling his numb fingers to bring life back into them. He slapped his cheeks a few times and rubbed his palms rapidly along his thighs, hoping to gather warmth from the friction he was creating.  
  
A quick scan of the ship revealed that there was still no sign of Qui-Gon.  
  
Remembering the earlier tremors he'd felt in the Force-and the sense of impending danger-the Padawan decided to go searching.  
  
Getting stiffly to his feet, Obi-Wan navigated through the ruined interiors of their once immaculate ship until he found the wardrobe case he and his master shared. Opening it, he spotted the two pairs of emergency clothes he and Qui-Gon always packed.  
  
A few moments later, Obi-Wan was tugging his boots on again, shivering in the cold of early morning. Outside, the sun was beginning to rise over the treetops, filtering in through the broken viewport and causing itself to be brightly reflected by a small, metal object that was just partially concealed by the copilot's seat. Adjusting the sleeves of the winter tunic he was now wearing, Obi-Wan reached for his cloak and shrugged into it before fishing below the seat to pull the object out. It was his comlink.  
  
The tiny device had somehow managed to slip out of its pouch and slide under the seat.  
  
Obi-Wan ran a hand through his copper hair, knowing there was probably dried blood somewhere in the tousled mess. He imagined he looked like Sith-not that anyone could come out of a crash looking like a beauty queen of course.  
  
Moving cautiously towards a large hold in the ship obviously made by his master-which was encouraging enough to know that Qui-Gon was still able to perform *normal* activities without any problem-Obi-Wan stepped outside and headed towards the forest. He entered the Jubian trees tentatively, softly caressing the hilt of his weapon as he looked to the sky above him and noticed it obscured by the branches of the trees, still fully in possession of their leaves from the previous spring. He cast out with the Force, searching for some trail of his master and found one, albeit faint, which suggested Qui-Gon had not been very strong during his trek through the forest.  
  
Why did his master have to be so stubborn!  
  
To keep up with him, he supposed.  
  
The forest of Jubian trees ended after a few miles of walking. As he walked out of the trees and onto a barren sandlot, feeling weakened from the walk and the injuries he'd sustained, he realized the trees were being cut down to make room for homes.  
  
The streets were empty in every direction he turned to look in, until finally, a few empty lots down to an abandoned warehouse, a man appeared. Obi-Wan hurried forward. "Excuse me," he called once in earshot. "Can you tell me where to find a transport?"  
  
The man looked worse than Obi-Wan did with his hair matted against his head and shiny with grease. His trousers were frayed at the bottom and held up only by a thin cord of rope. In the very middle of his lacerated shirt was a large stain of something yellowish-brown and…smelly.  
  
"You talkin' to me?" he slurred, revealing crooked teeth and a large gap in the front.  
  
Obi-Wan started to change directions, knowing full well that the man was drunk by the way he laughed at empty air and swayed from side to side as though he were on a ship that was flying through an asteroid belt, attempting not to get hit. At the last moment, however, the drunkard reached out and grabbed his cloak in his clammy hands.  
  
"You again?" the man exclaimed suddenly, his eyes flashing angrily as they attempted to focus on the young man before them. "I thought they arrested you, ya Jedi scum!"  
  
Obi-Wan backed away, snatching his cloak from the man. Hate radiated off the swaying figure like heat from the suns of Tatooine. "I don't know what you're talking about," he began. "My Master and I-"  
  
Realization hit the young apprentice. "My Master…" he murmured.  
  
Beside him, the drunk spoke quietly into a comlink, then stashed it in his belt and smiled evilly at Obi-Wan, his head tilting to one side then another as he struggled to remain still.  
  
Obi-Wan turned. "Excuse me," he said, and started to walk away. "I didn't mean to disturb you."  
  
The man pushed him from behind.  
  
Obi-Wan rebalanced himself easily from the weak shove and kept going. He was pushed again. This time it held more strength and he stumbled into a wall. Obi-Wan struggled to keep his rapidly rising temper from exploding. He spun around to face the man with a growl low in his throat and was surprised to find him hiding behind another man. A badge on the second man's jacket identified him as a local security guard.  
  
"Do ya see? Violent thang, dis Jedi is. Dangerous!"  
  
The guard smiled. Obi-Wan started to protest, saw more guards coming and changed his mind. Without a word to the two men, he turned and fled, running into the first open door he found.  
  
There were very few fights he'd run from before, and although he hated running now, he couldn't risk injuring one of the men. It was already obvious this planet disliked Jedi, and being arrested would not help his master, whom he was sure was already a prisoner somewhere.  
  
It was dark inside the building he had entered and Obi-Wan took a few moments to allow his eyes to adjust. He wondered what the quickest way back to the ship was. As he walked slowly through the dark, Obi-Wan considered hiding somewhere in the abandoned building until nightfall when the Force suddenly screamed a warning. *Move!* it said. But the warning came a second too late.  
  
Some unknown being hit him upon the head from behind. Obi-Wan's own impulsion mixed with that of whoever was behind him. He tripped over a bar lying on the ground and landed headfirst in a cage. Something was snapped off his belt, then the door slammed shut and clicked.  
  
Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, disoriented, and clutched the bars of the cage in his hands. His head throbbed terribly; the grinning faces beyond his prison swam in tiny circles. He started to sway when a new face seemed to magically appear amongst the group in the dark. An angel, he thought with a touch of excitement before sinking to his knees.  
  
"Mr.Lipa! I thought I told you not to beat them!"  
  
The owner of the voice bent down to be at eye level with Obi-Wan. The Jedi frowned as he found himself face to face with a young girl.  
  
"He was a lively one!" Lipa exclaimed. "Besides, the Jedi from yesterday was nothing but a pathetic, Republic weakling."  
  
Obi-Wan heard the words, but had only enough strength to manage a soft growl. Somewhere nearby in the dark, a female laughed.  
  
That was no angel.  
  
Mentally and physically exhausted, he stayed on the ground when the cage door clicked again.  
  
"Nevertheless," the voice started up again, closer this time, "the more you beat them up, the more money I have to spend to fix them up. And that, Mr.Lipa, means less money *for you*."  
  
The guard, obviously disappointed by this news, pulled the Jedi's confiscated lightsaber from his own belt. "For you, Miss.Verune."  
  
The young girl reached inside the cage and snapped a Force collar on Obi-Wan. The Jedi jerked as his connection was cut and slumped against the side of the cage, fighting off the urge to vomit. The onlookers simply shrugged, their interest the same whether he merely blinked at the new development or exploded in furry. Satisfied that the Jedi was now 'disabled', Verune straightened and brushed her long dress off before taking the proffered weapon. "Beautiful," she murmured, transfixed by the fact that she could nearly see her reflection in the highly polished metal. Concern unexpectedly etched her brow. "He didn't even fight? I don't want Jedi who won't put up a struggle-no matter how fetching they may look. The weak ones are the worst kinds of slaves. I like a little defiance, Mr.Lipa."  
  
Lipa reached past the slight young woman and pulled Obi-Wan from his cage. He was mumbling quietly to himself in a language other than Basic. Whatever it was, it did not sound nice.  
  
"Oh, he fought. Just not with that. He did some kind of weird kicks and spins," Lipa lied, hoping his pay would come soon. The drunk, who was also present, was thinking along the same lines. Verune nodded. The guard dropped Obi-Wan, but the apprentice quickly scrambled to his feet, wishing he hadn't eaten anything for breakfast and then remembering that in fact, he hadn't. Still, he thought that at any moment he might be able to 'decorate' the uniform of this Lipa character with the remains of *whatever* he'd previously eaten. Actually, when he concentrated hard enough, the faces would stop swimming. Now all he had to do was find a way out of this mess.  
  
As though she had read his thoughts, Verune pulled a pair of wrist binders from a small bag she carried over her shoulder, as well as a rather lethal looking blaster. She waved the latter in Obi-Wan's face. "Nothing funny," she warned, and put all of the items, including his saber, back into her bag. All except for the binders that is, which she deftly slapped onto his wrists.  
  
Obi-Wan just frowned. 


	3. Chapter 3

Nat! How good to see a familiar face! Thanks for stopping by and posting a review! :-) Welcome to Chapter 3....and your fav character! ^_~  
  
Tootles 'til next time everyone!  
--MK  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
  
Enjoy!  
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Chapter 3  
  
"So, you're the silent type, eh?"  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and looked away. He scowled fiercely at some women laughing at him from across the street at a market stand. The look alone was enough to send them scurrying quickly away, their mouths now set in firm, determined lines to get away from the Jedi as soon as possible. Obi-Wan was being paraded through the streets like some new toy by a girl who barely came up to his shoulder. Sparing a glance at her through the corner of his eye, he tried to read the expressionless mask plastered across her face, but could not gather anything.  
  
*Never ignore any opportunity to learn more about your adversary. It may come in handy later on.*  
  
Obi-Wan smiled faintly as his master's invaluable lessons drifted casually to the forefront of his thoughts. In a very serious tone that held-just perhaps-the faintest trace of mockery, he asked, "Doesn't your mother worry about sending you on these kidnapping missions?"  
  
He said it in a way that he hoped would encourage a response-and a lengthy one at that.  
  
Verune looked up at him with cold, purple-colored eyes. She brushed a piece of curly blond hair with light blue streaks behind one ear. "Kidnapping? I would hardly call it that, Jedi; and for your information, I never knew my real parents. My foster parents were killed just over a year ago."  
  
"Oh." Obi-Wan dropped his eyes to the ground. Suddenly he felt sorry for the young girl. He realized that she might not be the way she was now if she had known her birth parents. It was obvious she had lived a life where owning slaves was commonplace. Yet there was no way of knowing if life with her birth parents would have been different. And to hate the young girl because she had taken him as her slave would not work. It was not the Jedi way. His master had once told him to know his real enemies-anger and fear and other dark side emotions. Without the Force, he had no accurate way of knowing what was going on inside that skull covered by thick, blond curls, but considering what she had told him about her parents, he wanted to think her motivations revolved around fear and anger-and not something much, much worse.  
  
Verune paused momentarily to wave to a group of security officers standing at a nearby corner. One leapt away from his comrades and proceeded to imitate the Jedi slave's confident manner in which he walked. Verune waved him off with a laugh. She took one look at the disgruntled apprentice and mentally shrugged. With something akin to nonchalance in her voice, she continued talking.  
  
"I was adopted by an important political couple, the Aktins-perhaps you've heard of them? They could not have children. They were killed about a year ago when the government building they were in was bombed. The courts denied allowing me to add their name to mine without the written consent of one of them, but how can I get a written consent when they are dead? I just recently took over the family business."  
  
"Aren't you a little young?" the Jedi asked, wondering if all of the planet's inhabitants talked about the deceased with as much indifference as she did.  
  
"At 17? I don't think so. Neither do the people who elected me. Some planets elect kings and queens much younger than myself." Verune turned to nod at some passersby. When she turned back, Obi-Wan read a relaxed state of mind through her eyes. It seemed she had no problem discussing her life with her slaves.  
  
Obi-Wan had to agree. He'd both been to and heard of such places.  
  
Verune turned to study him briefly with a scrutinizing glance. "What's your name, Jedi?"  
  
Obi-Wan looked around for a moment, giving the impression that he was bored. He decided to skip around the question and instead asked, "What planet is this?"  
  
"What Planet Is This.Hmm, very interesting. Tell me, What Planet, did your precious Jedi Council give you that name or were you born with it?"  
  
Verune laughed at her joke, a haughty look reflecting in her eyes. Obi-Wan decided smugness was not one of her better looks. He looked dully at her through the corner of his eye. "I don't find your sense of humor very amusing."  
  
"Funny," she replied, brushing an imaginary piece of lint off his cloak. She moved in close to stare him straight in the eye. "I was about to say the same of you. Coincidence, no?"  
  
With a laugh she leapt away and continued to talk, despite his annoyed expression. "I'm Ceal Verune. You're on the planet Choet. I'm the representative for the region we are in." She waved her arms around, as though she could show him the entire area from their place on the sidewalk. Her expression became serious.  
  
"I'm also your new master."  
  
"I have only one master."  
  
Knowing full well what he was referring to, she retorted calmly, "Oh, don't worry. Your opinion will change very soon," and with an energetic hop, she skipped merrily for a few steps before returning to a walk.  
  
"You're immature, do you know that? I can't for the life of me figure out why anyone would want to elect *you* as their representative." Obi-Wan reached up to touch the Force collar.  
  
"Uh, uh, uh!" Ceal admonished, slapping his hand away. "And you should know why they listen," she continued. "You are Jedi after all. I bet you've been to dozens of planets throughout your life, and do you know what? They all have it. The people listen-because of *greed*. You know, `you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'?"  
  
Obi-Wan found himself nodding as he followed beside the young woman. It would be easy to snatch the bag containing his weapon from her shoulder and run, but he felt strangely compelled to just follow her, as though something awaited him at the end of their journey.  
  
After a brief moment, he murmured, "Obi-Wan."  
  
Ceal hid her grin with a cough.  
  
"What'd you say?"  
  
The apprentice rolled his eyes in an exasperated manner, his accent shining through when he nearly shouted, "My name is Obi-Wan, okay!"  
  
"Really, *Obi-Wan*. And do Jedi come with last names or are those made up along the way too? Assuming you have one, of course."  
  
He sighed, thoroughly annoyed with the young woman beside him. At least she was having fun. Obi-Wan wondered if any of her other slaves still retained their sanity.  
  
"Kenobi."  
  
"Very well, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now, I'm sure-do you mind me calling you Obi? No?   
Good. Now I'm sure, *Obi*, that as a Jedi you've had to learn all about the different planets in our vast galaxy, but to be on the safe side I'll have another of my servants fill you in on how our planet works."  
  
Obi-Wan was about to comment on how they didn't learn about *every single* planet in the galaxy, especially those not in the Republic, but Ceal suddenly stopped and threw her arms wide open.  
  
"Welcome to your new home, Obi-Wan Kenobi."  
  
Obi-Wan only glanced briefly at the house. His main concern was the height of the wall surrounding it. He needed to know if it would be easy to escape. But when he did finally peer at it, he found himself looking up-and up-and up-  
  
"Like my wall?" Ceal asked once the massive gate closed behind them. "It's meant to keep those on the inside in and those on the outside out."  
  
"I can see that," Obi-Wan grumbled. There was no way he could scale the wall without the Force. He would have to find another means of escape now.  
  
Two elaborate, massive doors swung open effortlessly when they stopped on the stoop before it.  
  
Obi-Wan was forced to do a double take. "Garen?"  
  
"Obi-Wan!" He ran forward to give the newcomer a hug.  
  
"Well now, it seems you two know each other. Show our new guest around Garen, but if I find out you're being a bad influence, I'll have to take actions." Ceal winked at him and started to walk away. She turned and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, by the way, Obi, your master is waiting in the sick bay for you."  
  
Obi-Wan could only move his jaw up and down.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
"She's full-blooded Choetian. She's got to be," Garen Muln was saying later. He had just finished giving Obi-Wan a tour of the grand mansion and the two were now sitting comfortably on a pair of side-by-side sleep couches in the quarters they would share.  
  
The two of them were only a year apart-with Obi-Wan being the oldest-and had gone through many classes at the Jedi Temple together.  
  
"I mean she dresses like one-"  
  
"Garen," Obi-Wan started, exasperation ringing in his voice, "Force knows anyone can do that. For all you know, she could be a Hutt in disguise, albeit a *thin* Hutt, but I think you see my point!"  
  
His reasoning fell on deaf ears, however. "Yeah, but she *dresses* like one!" the younger Jedi responded, as if stressing that one word would change everything. His eyes had taken on an almost dreamy look.  
  
Realizing immediately that his childhood friend was infatuated by the young politician, and seeing that it would be useless to argue with him, Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut.  
  
"She has the purple eyes; the accent (from the rich country of course); the thick, curly hair-although why she adds those blue streaks, I don't know-and she has the average skin complexion."  
  
"So you mean to tell me all Choetians are naturally the color of sand?"  
  
"Every single one of `em. Or at least the few I've seen. She tends to invite only politicians for dinner parties."  
  
"Pleasant."  
  
Garen laughed at his friend and lay down, folding his arms beneath his head. He quickly sobered and his voice took on a desolate tone. "She really is a better master compared to the others I've seen and heard of."  
  
Something flashed quickly across Garen's face-so quickly in fact that Obi-Wan wasn't even sure he'd seen it-but nevertheless, it made him think that perhaps Garen had seen a few things he shouldn't have.  
  
"A lot of slave owners on Choet have been known to beat their slaves. Some of them don't even feed them but once every few days when they remember that they aren't the only ones who have to eat. Ceal's not like that," he said quietly, then decided to talk of something else. "So-how did you and Qui-Gon come to grace us with your company?"  
  
"Just lucky I guess."  
  
The other Jedi laughed again. "Your sarcasm is as sharp as a vibro-shiv, buddy. Loosen up some. I can tell you haven't changed any since the last time we talked."  
  
Sitting up, he continued. "Do you remember that solo mission I went on six months ago?"  
  
His friend nodded.  
  
"Well, the conflict was finally resolved about two months ago. I didn't bother to contact the Council because my master's birthday was coming up and I wanted to surprise her. But as you can see, that was a mistake and I'm stuck here till Force knows when.  
  
"My ship was brought out of hyperspace by some mines. Messed it up pretty bad; the poor old girl didn't deserve that. I only managed to fire one shot before they opened fire on me."  
  
He shook his head sadly. "Didn't even have time to throw the shields up."  
  
Obi-Wan leaned forward and put his hands on his knees, his voice barely above a whisper. "No one even knows your missing. Not even your master. I mean, they're worried, but.everyone just thinks you're really busy." A haunted look formed in the apprentice's eyes. Why had the Council been so blind about Garen's lack of communication with his master? Every Jedi, especially Padawans, were required to report back on a regular basis concerning the progress of their mission.  
  
"What hit you?" he asked finally.  
  
"A Togorian warship. I barely made it to the planet in one piece. I landed in another section of the city, but they brought me here. Everyone hates Jedi; Ceal's just the only one who puts up with us as slaves. And she's one of the few who can afford us."  
  
Obi-Wan looked over his friend's shoulder at the blank wall across from him, and with no indication of what was on his mind, blurted out, "How are we supposed to wash with these things on?"  
  
Surprise registered in Garen's eyes at his friend's newfound ability to change the subject. As he watched him, Obi-Wan absent-mindedly tinkered with the Force collar around his neck. It wasn't as bad as some of the other collars he'd worn on previous missions gone bad, and this one had a padded interior which provided some comfort, even though it wasn't much. If he tried hard enough, he could make it spin slightly.  
  
"What's wrong, Obi-Wan?" Garen finally asked, his seriousness demanding his friend talk to him.  
  
The older Jedi nearly fell off his sleep couch. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me! My master and I were nearly blown from space, we crash landed on a planet outside the Republic that just happens to hate Jedi and adore slavery, my master turned up missing, I was beat by a security guard and sold, we've been taken as slaves, our connection to the Force has been choked, *and you want to know what's wrong*? Are you brain dead? Last I checked, the Jedi-or any other living creature across the galaxy for that matter-weren't exactly standing in line to become slaves!"  
  
Garen smiled, obviously satisfied that he'd gotten an answer out of Obi-Wan and not in the least bit perturbed by his companion's words. "And in case you were still wondering, Ceal occasionally lets us take them off."  
  
"So why don't you escape!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, tugging furiously on the collar and silently thanking the gods that it didn't emit electrical charges to prevent such actions.  
  
"She puts wrist binders on us, like the ones you were wearing earlier. You may not have been able to tell, but they are also Force inhibitors."  
  
"Then how are we supposed to bathe?"  
  
"Get creative I guess."  
  
Obi-Wan sighed. He gave up; Garen was a hopeless cause.  
  
"Hi boys! Are you behaving yourselves?"  
  
Obi-Wan took one look at Ceal standing in the doorway grinning like a drunken fool and adverted his eyes to the ceiling, suddenly finding it very interesting. "You again? Haven't you ever heard of privacy? Or knocking?"  
  
Ceal looked to Garen with barely concealed amusement. "Is he always like this?"  
  
The other boy shrugged and responded, "Only when he's in a situation he doesn't like."  
  
Nodding, Ceal reached for the newcomer's arm. "It's time to go see that master of yours," she said.  
  
Obi-Wan was out the door in a flash. 


	4. Chapter 4

LOL Thanks for all of the feedback as always everyone! ^_^ Here's the next chapter--Enjoy!  
  
--Marie K.  
*See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and other info.*  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 4  
  
"What happened to him?"  
  
Ceal moved closer to the whispering Jedi. She pulled a datapad from a slot near the bed, scanned through it briefly, then replaced it. She looked up. "Reports came in yesterday afternoon about an older man resembling a Jedi. Of course I went to investigate. By the time I arrived, he'd collapsed."  
  
Obi-Wan's fists clenched tightly, turning his knuckles white. The bruises marring his master's sagacious and weathered face gave him mixed feelings of worry and anger. If the guards had beat him-  
  
"Garen and I brought him back here. Lab tests show that he's fighting *Ulvitosimen*, or space bacteria if you want it put in simple terms."  
  
Surprised by this news, Obi-Wan sank into a burgundy, overstuffed chair beside the bed where his master lay. Looking slowly around the room, he took in the stark, white walls and pictures of ocean sunsets-to soothe the room's occupants, no doubt. One look at his master, however, with eyes swollen shut, graying hair matted and damp with sweat, complexion ghostly pale, and left thigh bandaged because of a deep laceration, and his heart and stomach began fluttering all over again.   
  
"So they didn't beat him?" he asked just as quietly.  
  
Ceal shook her head. "Of course not. He collapsed near the forest before anyone could get close to him."  
  
"Oh.what exactly does the space bacteria do?"  
  
Garen, ever the ship expert, leaned against the doorframe with his hands jammed into the pockets of his pants and said, "It lives on your ship. Most of the time it's beneficial because it fends off harmful organisms that may destroy your ship. When it comes in contact with humans, however, and enters the bloodstream-as it has with Master Jinn-it mutates into a nasty virus. Chances are he was injured by a piece of glass or metal when your ship crashed and the bacteria entered his body. His immune system is taking all his strength trying to fight it."  
  
The young slave owner crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "We've given him some antibiotics to help fight it, but the rest is up to-"  
  
The Jedi Master began tossing. Hallucinations caused by his high fever made him see people who weren't there. "Master Yoda.found her.Marie."  
  
Obi-Wan reached for his master's hand to comfort his friend. His voice was hard with no emotion when he spoke. "Master, can you hear me? It's Obi-Wan, I'm here. You have a fever, Master; you're hallucinating. Marie isn't here. No one's heard from her since she left for that solo mission over a year ago. The Council is assuming she's.dead."  
  
The apprentice suddenly froze. If Qui-Gon was seeing her, claiming he'd found her even though she was believed dead, did that mean-  
  
"Is he dying?"  
  
Obi-Wan spun to face Ceal, catching her completely off guard. A panicked look flitted across her face as he struggled to keep himself from grabbing her by the shoulders and madly shaking her until she answered.  
  
Ceal clapped her hands urgently, and a male medic with wavy, black hair immediately rushed in. It was almost like he had been waiting directly outside the door-  
  
He left a few moments later, blood from the sick Jedi held tightly in a small glass tube. He would run more tests to discover the master's progress, if there had been any at all. The results would be back soon.  
  
Anger flared briefly in the apprentice's eyes as he turned to stare at Ceal. "I could help him," he said tersely. "If you would just take the collars off-"  
  
But Ceal was already shaking her head and motioning for Garen to come to her. "We'll give you some time alone with him. The evening meal is in an hour. Garen will come for you."  
  
With that said, she exited, Garen two steps behind her and adoringly admiring the back of her head.  
  
Obi-Wan covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Master," he said quietly. "I've failed you.again."  
  
The young Jedi pulled angrily at the Force collar around his neck. If only he could get it off!  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
When Garen arrived to collect Obi-Wan an hour later, he was surprised to find the young man sleeping, his head resting lightly on the bed beside Qui-Gon. A look of contentment covered his face. Garen felt a faint stab of jealousy; he missed the companionship and familiarity his own master's presence always offered him. Garen cleared his throat softly.  
  
With a start, Obi-Wan shot up, then relaxed and allowed a yawn to overcome him when he saw who it was. The black eye he'd acquired during his earlier adventures shone like a new star.  
  
"Perhaps you should have someone look at those injuries of yours, Obi-Wan. I'm guessing you haven't taken the time to take care of them."  
  
The apprentice grumbled something incoherent.  
  
"Obi-Wan-"  
  
"No!" came the firm response. "I'm fine, really."  
  
He hated to admit any weaknesses.  
  
Garen shrugged. "Say what you will, Obi-Wan, but I'm still going to tell Ceal. She, at least, can *make* you see a healer. Besides, those are some pretty nasty looking cuts on your arm *and* your cheek. What would your master say if you got sick too?"  
  
Garen looked at Qui-Gon briefly, not giving his friend a chance to answer as he immediately sighed and asked, "Have you heard anything new?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head. "The medic came in a while ago, but when he saw me, he left. Real nice fellow," he added sarcastically.  
  
Garen nodded. "We'll ask Ceal. The medic should have informed her of his condition by now. The other slaves don't have any problems with Jedi because we tend to sit in the same boat, so to speak, but the medic isn't a slave. Ceal hired him. He gets paid and can leave, or be made to leave, whenever he or Ceal chooses. Are you ready to eat now?"  
  
Obi-Wan tipped his head in agreement while giving his master's hand one last, reassuring squeeze before following Garen out of the room.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Later that night, Garen rolled over in his bed and propped himself up on his elbow. All the lights were off, but even in the pitch-black of night he could tell his roommate was anything but asleep. Before he could say anything, however, the sleep couch beside him squeaked.  
  
"Garen?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What-"  
  
"What's it like?" The dark haired boy interrupted his friend before he could finish. He'd expected the question sooner or later.  
  
"Yeah." It came out slow and strained and thick with an accent that had been present since birth.  
  
Garen reached over to flip on a small glowrod. Obi-Wan's face was half-covered by shadows. He shrugged as best he could in the position he was in. "Being a slave has-really made me think about my goals in life, my dedication to the Order. Being cut off from the Force for two months has changed things. I don't feel as safe as I used to. I feel awkward in my body. People no longer have any depth; they're just pictures with no meaning. Even you, who I know almost as well as I know myself. Not having my lightsaber with me constantly makes me feel naked and uncomfortable, like everyone is staring at me and I have this huge muja berry stain on my tunic.  
  
"I've never been cut off from the Force before. Did you know that? Sure, we had those few exercises at the Temple where our connections where `dimmed', but I've never completely been cut off from it. I felt like dying the first few days, but Ceal was kind to me. She asked me questions about my life as a Padawan.  
  
"I still dream of freedom, don't get me wrong. But at night, when I stretch out with my feelings to call my master, or feel someone's Force signature, or move something *and I can't*, I wonder if I ever will again. Sure, it's depressing, but I see it as a lesson to be learned. Nothing happens by chance, Obi-Wan; remember that. At least you still have Qui-Gon. Don't forget what Ceal said earlier about his recovery."  
  
Obi-Wan laid his head on his pillow and put his hands on his chest. He thought he might sense bitterness in Garen's last remark. But his friend was right. At least he still had his master. Ceal had explained to him at dinner that the Jedi was expected to make a complete recovery with no after effects.  
  
Content for the moment, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tenderly rubbed the arm that Ceal had ordered him to get bandaged earlier. As Garen flipped the glowrod off, he realized just how long a day it had been. Rest would be welcome.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
The day had arrived in a gloomy, stormy fashion, perfectly suited to a certain Jedi Padawan's mood. Obi-Wan, still mulling dejectedly over his new circumstances stood on a balcony over looking the courtyard. Even from the height of the third floor, however, he could not see over the grandiose wall. Placing his forearms on the railing, Obi-Wan looked to the sky and watched as the first few drops began to break free of their prison in the clouds. He envied the tiny droplets.  
  
The massive gates in the front courtyard suddenly swung open. Disgusted by what came through them, he turned on his heel and headed to the turbolifts to take him to the second floor. He had promised Qui-Gon he would come see him again at noon. It would be his third visit that day. The Jedi Master had finally come back to the world of coherent thought the night before after a week of being in a near comatose state. The virus was under control now, nearly gone in fact and all that was left for him to do was recover. It was music to the Padawan's ears.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Below in the courtyard, Ceal glanced up at the now empty balcony and sighed in despair. Her attempts to get the young Jedi to open up and trust her had all ended in fruitless results. Why couldn't he be more like Garen!  
  
"Miss.Verune?"  
  
Ceal turned her attention back to the young slave beside her who waited patient and unmoving, his skinny arm stretched to the side to keep the umbrella he held over his mistress's head.  
  
"We should get inside `fore you catch cold."  
  
Ceal smiled and nodded, her actions stiff as though she wasn't fully there. Taking her briefcase from the slight boy, she allowed him to lead her up the steps and into the mansion.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
The walls outside the sick bay were decorated a rich burgundy with deep navy flowers and small, ornamental lights. Window seats were interspersed along the seemingly never-ending hallway.  
  
When he wasn't working, Obi-Wan would sit on one of the seats and daydream about the future, something he had rarely done before coming here.  
  
It had turned into a bad habit that he knew would not be easily broken.  
  
Now, he had to venture past the elegant hall and into the small, stark white sick bay. He hadn't made it far, however, when the medic he'd met on his first day blocked the door to Qui-Gon's small room.  
  
"Excuse me, *Antiyo*."  
  
The medic gave him an annoyed glare. "Don't you mean, `Please allow my wretched, disgusting body to enter this room, *Dr.* Ganfor'?" he asked with a smug grin.  
  
"No," Obi-Wan said simply. "I mean get the Sith out of my way!"  
  
The young Jedi shoved roughly past Antiyo. Qui-Gon looked up at the commotion, his attention pulled away from his healing trance for the moment, and started to smile when he saw his apprentice, but instead motioned quickly to the door. Obi-Wan ducked just in time and spun around. Antiyo was grinning wickedly, slapping a small metal rod against his open palm every few seconds.  
  
Obi-Wan peered closer at the object that he'd nearly been clubbed by and strangled a gasp.  
  
It was his lightsaber!  
  
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Give me that! Where did you get it?"  
  
Antiyo shrugged nonchalantly. "Stole it," he said, obviously not caring if a mere slave knew the truth. He clumsily activated the blade and extended it the full length of his arm. "Beautiful weapon," he murmured, obviously pleased by the tortured look on his adversary's face.  
  
"Padawan-"  
  
Obi-Wan turned away quickly from the demented man and started towards his master.  
  
The elder Jedi was confined to bed rest for at least another week. He couldn't leave even if he wanted to anyway-his room was constantly being monitored by other servants or-occasionally-Ceal herself. Plus, his underused muscles probably wouldn't be able to support him for more than a few moments at a time.   
  
Obi-Wan was half way across the room when his master's second warning came. This time, however, it came too late.  
  
The apprentice crumpled into a heap at Antiyo's feet, who was brandishing the disengaged weapon like a bat. A small smirk played across his lips.  
  
Obi-Wan recovered quickly from the blow to the side of his neck, however, and wrapped his legs around one of Antiyo's knees in a classic defensive maneuver before giving a quick jerk.  
  
The doctor joined Obi-Wan on the ground.  
  
Both men grabbed the other and began rolling across the cold, tile floor like a pair of children. Qui-Gon was desperately trying to call Obi-Wan to attention, but found it hard to do since his mouth was constantly parched from the medicine he'd been given to fight the virus. Not to mention his vocal cords had temporarily collapsed as a side effect of his illness and he was just getting his voice back.  
  
Suddenly, Garen burst through the door with Ceal hot on his heels. While the latter ordered Qui-Gon back into bed, Garen yanked the doctor off his friend. Ceal was on them both in an instant, chastising Obi-Wan more so than the other, though as she snatched the lightsaber away from Antiyo.  
  
"You've made a big mistake choosing to fight, Kenobi!"  
  
Obi-Wan's mouth mimicked that of a fish's, his eyes widening in disbelief. Surely she didn't think *he'd* started the fight!  
  
Ceal pushed him against the wall with her imposing stare, although the young woman didn't scare him at all.  
  
Two guards appeared out of no where and restrained the Jedi apprentice. Ceal walked up to him and narrowed her purple eyes dangerously. "Until further notice, you are restricted to the more arduous tasks of outside labor. You will get no breaks for a week. You will eat-alone-in your room or outside and may speak to Garen only when you retire at night. You also will not have permission to see or speak to Qui-Gon except for one time a week, during your day of rest. Am I understood?"  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head profusely. "I didn't-"  
  
"Don't you get it? I don't care!" Ceal snapped. She turned to look Antiyo over briefly before waving her hand towards the door and emitting a dramatic sigh. "Get them out of here."  
  
Obi-Wan struggled against the guards. In a split-second of freedom, he glanced back at Qui-Gon. If anyone could help him convince the young woman that it wasn't his fault, it was his master. But Qui-Gon, as wise and imposing as he had ever been, despite the silver collar around his neck, had turned away and was staring at one particularly soothing picture, his eyes reflecting so many tangled emotions that they could not be picked apart. 


	5. Chapter 5

OK everyone! Time for a bit of mystery and humor! Enjoy! ^_~  
--MK  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 5  
  
"You should have seen the look on her face! It was priceless!"  
  
Garen fell onto the ground laughing. Dirt collected on his cheeks where tears had wet them. Obi-Wan was laughing just as hard, except he had the dignity not to fall on the ground. Instead, he chose to hold himself up with the rake he was using to gather the last fallen leaves from the previous fall.  
  
Garen had used his lunch break to fill Obi-Wan in on the happenings taking place in the house, since Obi-Wan had been assigned outside labor a month ago. The most recent was about none other than Ceal. With the help of Obi-Wan, Garen had strung a banner across the banquet table that morning that read, "It *is* as bad as you think and they *are* out to get you," just before a dozen politicians-who were no doubt involved in dirty dealings-walked in for a breakfast meeting.  
  
Ceal's face had flushed rosy red, her mouth puckering much like Obi-Wan's had the day he'd been condemned to outside labor. The young girl had seemed to remember almost too late that she was *not* the only one in the room and a temper tantrum would *not* look good. After ushering everyone one out, she called Qui-Gon in-easily the tallest person in the large household-and commanded him to take it down. The Jedi Master took one brief glance at the banner's message, immediately recognizing his apprentice's rough handwriting scrawled across the paper before turning to the shocked representatives in the adjoining room and allowing a faint smile to grace his features. Some of them asked to be excused. With a hard glare, Ceal dismissed the intimidating Jedi. The meeting continued normally a moment later.  
  
"And, and then she-"  
  
"Ssh, Garen-here she comes!"  
  
Garen leapt to his feet and tried to dust the dirt off his already stained tunic. Both young men wiped their tears away and quickly sobered, calling on their Jedi training to lend them expressions of cool nothingness.  
  
Ceal stormed up to them, her face still flushed red in anger and her mouth set in a firm line as she glared menacingly at the older of the two Padawans.  
  
"You, you *scoundrel* you! You could have ruined *everything*!" she stammered  
  
A mischievous glint appeared in Obi-Wan's eyes and he made no attempt to cover it up.   
It took all of Ceal's strength to keep from strangling him right there on the spot. Seeing she wasn't going to get any response from the young men, she threw her hands up in despair. "Both of you, this way-now!"  
  
Obi-Wan and Garen sauntered after, mimicking her every move.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Ceal led Obi-Wan and Garen-two of her youngest and most scheming slaves-into the mansion and to the third floor where the banquet hall was. Waiting there for them were the twelve politicians from earlier. Garen resisted the urge to run in the opposite direction. The representatives repulsed him and made his skin crawl. Obi-Wan looked them square in the eye. One finally had to turn away from his inscrutable stare. Ceal commanded them to kneel. The older of the two Jedi did so reluctantly.  
  
Taking a step forward, Ceal extended her arms and bowed, causing her cream-colored shimmer silk gown to shiver slightly. In her most authoritative voice she addressed the dozen representatives standing before her and said, "Please allow me to once again express my deepest and most sincere apologies."  
  
Obi-Wan snickered. Garen nudged him in his ribs.  
  
Ignoring the rebellious apprentice, Ceal continued.  
  
"To prove to you that my feisty, young slave does indeed have some intelligence-albeit little-"  
  
The representatives laughed, although a few came out as nervous chuckles because of the glare being sent their way by one "feisty, young slave."  
  
"I will host a party later this year. You are all invited of course. Please, bring you family and friends. Invitations will be sent out at a later date. Perhaps, as a special treat, I may even have my headstrong Jedi Padawan perform some tricks for you!"  
  
Disgusted by what he heard, Qui-Gon crept away from the doorway he'd been hiding behind and returned to his job as 'butler'.  
  
Obi-Wan and Garen were dismissed soon after.  
  
The 12 representatives stayed a while longer, sipping tea and talking excitedly about the "performing Jedi pup"-as they put it-that they hoped to see in a few months. They left with genuine smiles on their faces.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
That afternoon, Ceal sent Obi-Wan to the Market Place with one of her guards to purchase a few supplies.  
  
A plan of escape had formulated in his mind by the time he and his shadow returned to the mansion.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
That same day, shrouded by the cloak of night, a figure sat down before a communications console and flipped the screen on. Two figures appeared, also masked by the darkness. The very first figure spoke worriedly.  
  
"Masters, matters are getting more and more out of hand. Kenobi is becoming increasingly rebellious. Muln is beginning to follow his lead and I fear if he continues like this, Verune will lose all support."  
  
"Do you have enough data to prove the reports are accurate?" one of the other figures asked.  
  
The first figure shook its head. "Not quite, Masters, but I feel that in a few more months time I should."  
  
"Very well then. Remember, all information *must* be kept confidential until it can successfully be presented before the Senate."  
  
"Yes, Master. But what if the need should arise that I inform one of the Jedi?"  
  
"Use your own discretion, but I'm sure I don't need to tell you that they can be trusted."  
  
The slightest trace of humor could be heard echoing in the voice.  
  
"Of course, Master." The first figure was silent, holding back a question that plagued its consciousness constantly.  
  
The third figure, the one that had yet to speak, stepped closer to the screen so that his face could be seen a little better. "More on your mind is there?"  
  
The reply came hesitantly. "As a matter of fact, Master, yes there is. I just…wonder if the three Jedi are being treated fairly."  
  
"Mmm, expected this, I did. Listen to your heart, you must," he said, "as well as your head."  
  
The first figure nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Master, I will keep that in mind. I will contact you should anything new reveal itself. May the Force be with you."  
  
The figures bowed to each other and the second and third repeated the mantra just before the connection was cut.  
  
Now completely alone, the first figure removed a cylindrical object from a hidden compartment and pressed a small, red button. A beam of light colored blue-green sprang to life as the figure began to execute both simple and advanced moves that required intense footwork. Halfway through a difficult maneuver, it spun towards the door where two frightened eyes quickly disappeared.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
The next morning, Garen was awaken by a timid knocking at the door of his and Obi-Wan's room. Despite his attempt to let his friend sleep in on his day off, Obi-Wan opened bleary blue-green eyes.  
  
"I've got it," Garen said, crawling out of his bed.  
  
Yuko, an eight year old boy who had been bought with his father when Ceal learned the boy had no other known living relatives nearby, stood trembling nervously in the doorway. Garen knelt down to be at eye level with him.  
  
"Is everything all right, Yuke?" he asked, using the boy's nickname.  
  
Yuko shook his head. "It's the master."  
  
Garen looked briefly over his shoulder to see Obi-Wan now had his back to them and had resumed sleeping. He shut the door slightly behind him. "What's wrong with the master?" he questioned the small boy.  
  
"She was fighting last night in the communications room."  
  
"What?"  
  
"She had a lasersword, like the ones Jedis use. She was chopping at the dark."  
  
Yuko tried to imitate some of the difficult maneuvers and landed on his bottom, a look of pure childhood innocence plastered across his young face.  
  
It wasn't fair that he should have to live the life of a slave.  
  
Garen lifted him up to his feet.  
  
Why would Ceal be messing with a lightsaber? he wondered. And how was it possible that all of her limbs were still attached to her body if indeed she was fighting with one of the deadly weapons?  
  
An idea suddenly struck the Jedi. "Yuko, do you think you could help me with something really, *really* important?"  
  
The boy nodded enthusiastically.  
  
"I need you to spy on Ce-uh, Master for me."  
  
Yuko clapped his hands in anticipation, the apprehension he'd felt earlier completely gone now.  
  
Garen smiled, placing a finger to his lips to quiet the boy and said, "If you see her doing it again, come get me, okay?" then he sent the boy on his way.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
When Obi-Wan awoke about on hour later, he found that Garen had long since been gone. Snatching a fuzzy, purple fruit from his breakfast tray, Obi-Wan yanked his tunic and boots on and ran all the way to the East Side of the mansion where Qui-Gon stayed. He barely got one knock in before the door slid open. Obi-Wan bounded in and wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon.  
  
"Master!" he exclaimed.  
  
The Jedi Master returned the embrace, holding it for a few moments before pushing his apprentice away to arm's length. "Obi-Wan," he said affectionately. A frown suddenly disturbed the smile on his face. "You've lost weight."  
  
"Master, I have great news!" Obi-Wan blurted out, ignoring Qui-Gon's concern.  
  
The Jedi Master guided him to his bed, then sat down beside him. "Yes, Padawan?"  
  
Obi-Wan's eyes danced. "I have a plan of escape."  
  
Qui-Gon's eyes unfocused strangely. A memory came to his mind at that moment-brief, faint, and distorted-but still there, waiting to be pulled completely to the surface and made clear. It would require deep meditation and possibly a touch of the Force (which he could not do at the moment) to recover the memory of his first day in the sick bay. Before the collar; before he was utterly overwhelmed by the virus; before he felt something...someone...blurred by the high fever. A mysterious presence that had found it necessary to hide from him; a presence he had found strangely comforting. Perhaps it was the fleeting memory of that presence that told him to delay what his Padawan was so fervently trying to do.  
  
"Master? Is everything all right?"  
  
*His Padawan*…His dear Padawan was awaiting an answer.  
  
"You have all day to tell me, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said in reply, his eyes sharp and clear again. "Why don't we just spend a few moments of peace together?"  
  
The apprentice nodded and leaned his head on his respected Master's shoulder. He took a bite from the fruit still in his hand and smiled. Maybe things would work out… 


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you's go out to: brat64, Ziptango, Aneiki-Rose, and Cerasi5 for reviewing the past two chapters. Thanks you guys! ^_^ Well, I'm back from vacation now, so it's time to update! Enjoy--and please don't forget to review!  
  
--MK  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 6  
  
*"Activity can endanger…"*  
  
Obi-Wan scowled and plunged his tool into the soft ground harder than the last time he had done it. It had been nearly three months since he had told Qui-Gon of his plan for escape, and the Jedi Master's response still caused him to practice calming techniques. His master had argued that to take such drastic measures during the party could put many lives at risk.  
  
It seemed he was the only one attempting to find ways off this Force-forsaken planet.  
  
Obi-Wan's chronometer buzzed dully, indicating it was time for his midday meal. Sparing a final glance at the flowers he still had to plant before nightfall, Obi-Wan dropped his tool and with one arm sweaty and gritty with dirt, wiped the perspiration from his forehead, effectively smearing the grainy sand all over his face. Walking over to the garden fountain, he immersed his face in the chilly water, then threw his head back and attempted to shake out the extra droplets. Not bothering with socks, he brushed off his bare feet and slipped them back into his boots. An amused look crossed his features when he saw the odd tan line he had earned. His sun bathed feet and ankles gave way to bright white, *hairy* legs underneath his light trousers. Chuckling quietly, he promised to do something about that after he ate.  
  
The bright white part of course.  
  
Certainly not the hairy part.  
  
With his usual swagger, he threw the tunic over his shoulder that he'd taken off earlier and headed towards the kitchen, located near the back of the mansion. He smiled when he spotted Yuko gathering vegetables in the kitchen garden. Yuko grinned when he saw the Jedi approaching and ran through the kitchen door.  
  
"Papa, it's the rebel Jedi!" Obi-Wan heard the boy shout, making him wonder just how much his master was rubbing off on him.  
  
A Choetian man with a pale complexion and short, curly hair stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron around his neck. Obi-Wan bowed low as he came to a stop before him.  
  
"Mr. Mutun," he said respectfully.  
  
Sei Mutun extended his hand, which Obi-Wan took up in a firm handshake. "It's good to see you, Obi-Wan. You look very good today. It's as if the arrival of spring has made you an entirely different young man. I'm glad to see all your wounds are finally gone now."  
  
Obi-Wan bowed slightly again. The cook had always been kind to him and the two shared something in common: they were both not very fond of Antiyo Ganfor, the mansion's ex-medic. Antiyo had been fired a few months ago after being found guilty for stealing, but he still managed to make trouble for Ceal Verune and her household.  
  
"I'm glad winter is over," the Jedi said finally. "I'm used to the climate being controlled since I live at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, although I have been through some rough weather on previous missions."  
  
"It must be hard for you," Sei said softly, putting a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You've been cut off from your Force and almost everything else you've ever known."  
  
Obi-Wan struggled to not let his eyes drop. He did not like being reminded of all he had lost since coming here. His freedom, his dignity, his hope, his home-  
  
The thoughts started coming faster and faster until they were just a blur traveling through his mind.  
  
His friends, his lightsaber of all things, his belief that all beings held some form of goodness…the training bond he shared with his master…the Force…  
  
The young Jedi met the chef's eyes with sympathy as he pushed away his own problems and thought of the other man. "It's just as hard for me as it is for you. I'm sure you miss your wife very much."  
  
There was a pause and stretch of silence before Sei spoke up again. "Yes, but I live a life that was planned for me many centuries ago. You are a Jedi!" he exclaimed, slapping the young man on the back, "your life is one of adventure and mystery!"   
  
Obi-Wan did not see this as the definition of a Jedi but did not say so. His eyes sought briefly the largest thing-literally-that held him captive. He would find a way over that wall if it was the last thing he did.  
  
"Nothing happens by chance," Obi-Wan replied, as much for Sei's conviction as his own.  
  
"I suppose it's your Jedi wisdom that keeps you strong."  
  
"A little faith helps too." Obi-Wan smiled and followed Sei into the kitchen.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
"Masters."  
  
The lone figure, hidden by a veil of darkness, bowed to the hologram of assorted beings.  
  
"New information, have you?"  
  
"Yes Masters, but it is still not quite enough. Master Rees-has she returned back yet?"  
  
Two new figures, an elder and a young woman-both human-stepped into the line of the holoprojector.  
  
"I arrived today. Thank you for your help and concern. I have explained to the Council my experience. It has been taped and will be added to your own evidence upon your return to Coruscant."  
  
The elder woman bowed to the dark image first, then to the circle of masters and excused herself. The younger woman stepped forward next, bright orange hair just visible in the dim light.  
  
"It has been nearly a year Coruscant time since I last saw my apprentice," she began, her normally bright attitude uncharacteristically reserved. Her eyes drifted briefly, holding a lonely look.  
  
The lone figure spoke up before she could say anymore.  
  
"He is safe. I would not let anything happen to him."  
  
The woman's eyes returned to the holo image before her. She allowed a brief smile, then bowed and left as well, her cheerful manner returned full force.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Garen retreated slowly back into the safety of darkness. He wiped his eyes, refusing to let the tears blurring his vision from falling. He was 19 years old, and a Jedi at that for crying out loud! Boohooing wouldn't solve anything. Calling back his reserve, he looked back through the door to watch the dancing figure and sword of light move gracefully about the room. Yuko had awakened him earlier that night and together they had stole into the hallway outside the communications room. Usually Ceal kept it locked, but the young boy had stolen the key to the room from his father, the chef, so that he could investigate the electronics inside. He loved technology. The two young slaves had done this many times already, but Garen had never seen anything that could be useful. He always returned, however, because *something* seemed to draw him here. Now he knew what that *something* was…  
  
Yuko scooted slowly to Garen's side. He looked uncertainly through the dark at the person he knew as Master, then at the young man he knew as a strong Jedi and friend.   
Yuko crawled into his lap.  
  
"Garen? Why are you sad?"  
  
Garen rubbed his face and sighed shakily. Yuko would never understand the Master/Padawan bond. Hoping to put it into terms the boy would understand, he replied, "I miss my mother…"  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Ceal looked herself over one last time in the mirror. She smoothed down a curly golden-blue strand of hair that had strayed from its place and pinched her cheeks lightly to bring more color to them.  
  
"Miss.Verune, your speeder awaits you in the front courtyard."  
  
Two purple eyes roamed from the mirror to the door where Garen stood proudly. Force or no Force, Ceal decided, he was still a confident, strong young man. And with good reasons, too. She suspected he could easily overpower even Lipa if given the chance. Looping her arm through his, Ceal allowed him to escort her outside. It was a beautiful spring day; the birds chirped happy, uplifting songs now that winter was gone. Verune was taking the next few days off and going to her country estate before the late spring, early summer board meetings had a chance to overwhelm her.  
  
Five servants would accompany her, not counting security officers-Garen, Qui-Gon, Sei, Yuko, and-  
  
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and shook his head at the sight heading towards him. He was positive now that Garen was infatuated by the young slave owner and although he had to admit she did have her moments when 'pretty' just wouldn't describe her, he knew that she was not his type; something felt strangely out of place with her. But now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure what kind of woman would be his type. Choet did not allow woman slaves. Instead, the more taller, younger, stronger, *good-looking* slaves one had, the higher their status in the community. Obi-Wan figured Ceal had those traits taken care of with just the three Jedi.  
  
There was still one thing that bothered him, though.  
  
An older, human female Jedi Master by the name of Jance Rees had crash-landed two weeks before. Qui-Gon had gone with Ceal to collect her and later filled him in. He was supposed to take the Master-whom had been staying in the sick bay-for a walk, but when he arrived she was no where to be found. Ceal had called for a search party immediately. Jance was no where to be found and Obi-Wan presumed the search had finally been called off.  
  
A large smile graced Ceal's sandy-colored face as she climbed into her sleek speeder, but Obi-Wan-even without the aid of the Force-could sense an underlying feeling of apprehension and guilt beneath that smooth mask whenever she looked in the direction of the Jedi.  
  
He wondered if perhaps he had judged her too soon, and felt his feelings for the young woman soften suddenly.  
  
Could it be possible he was feeling loyalty towards her now?  
  
Obi-Wan shook his head to bring him back to the present. *Nah…* 


	7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out; I know, I've been a bad writer. But this week marks my finals and then Christmas break, so hopefully things can speed up soon. A big thanks goes to Ziptango and Cerasi5 for being such loyal reviewers. ^_^ Please don't forget to R & R! Thanks and tootles!  
--Marie K  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 7  
  
"It reminds me of home-it has the serenity of the Temple."  
  
Qui-Gon opened his eyes slowly to become adjusted to the brightness of the sun in a gradual manner as he pulled out of his meditative state. Garen was referring to the country estate they were staying in and all of the surrounding land. Flowers and trees in full bloom were everywhere, showing off their brilliant, vivid colors. The grass they rested on was soft and lush. In a nearby tree, a mother bird sang cheerfully to her three younglings. To Qui-Gon it sounded like a flute being played by one of the great musicians of Alderaan, smooth and comforting, but emotional enough to pierce one's very heart. Butterflies and other flying insects wafted gracefully along the wind, occasionally pausing to land on one of the Jedi.  
  
It was paradise for any Jedi strong in the living Force, and Qui-Gon hadn't felt quite so content in a very long time. The only problem was…he couldn't feel any of it!  
  
To the master, everything was merely a picture or a well-done painting, and that left a deep aching in his heart.  
  
On Qui-Gon's left was Garen. The younger Jedi lay on his stomach on the bank of a stream, his fingers trailing lazily through the clear, cool water. He rolled over onto his side and propped his elbow under his head to better see the Jedi Master.  
  
"Don't you think so?"  
  
Obi-Wan stirred from his meditation on Qui-Gon's right side. Despite very lengthy objections from the impatient apprentice about continuing meditation through these very trying times, the Master and Padawan team had-at Qui-Gon's strict prompting-attempted to contact one another or touch the other's mind. But they had been unable to, even considering the close proximity that they were with one another, and the meditation had been-*bland*. Like a flower without scent or wine without flavor. It was something neither one of them had greatly enjoyed.  
  
The lack of the training bond did not weaken their relationship, however. If anything it strengthened them. Sometimes, especially at night during the first few weeks of their lives as slaves, the lack of Qui-Gon's Force signature (or anyone's for that matter) had nearly driven Obi-Wan mad. The commanding but caring presence had filled a part of his very soul for so long that he didn't think he could live without it.  
  
But once they were free of this place and back at the Temple, Obi-Wan did not have to worry about that. He and his master would be assigned as a team after he was knighted and they would go on missions together until he took a Padawan of his own and Qui-Gon retired to teach saber classes in the Temple.  
  
*Right?*  
  
"Right? Don't you think so? Obi-Wan?"  
  
The apprentice huffed at his friend. "You talk too much, Garen," he said.  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
The other boy grinned and leapt to tackle him.  
  
Qui-Gon merely smiled and moved out of the way of the sparring young men.  
  
A short distance away, Ceal looked up from her datapad and smiled mischievously. "Hey Obi! You fight like a girl!"  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
A steady knock on their door drew the Jedi's attention from their sleep. Obi-Wan groaned and rolled over on his sleep couch. The chronometer beside his bed read 4:00 in the morning. It was too early! He didn't usually get up for another hour. With a grunt, he threw his covers back, only to have them gently replaced. Qui-Gon stood over him with a smile.  
  
After watching his master pull a shirt over his head, Obi-Wan turned to Garen. The younger boy was staring bright-eyed and hopeful at the door. He leapt out of bed and yanked on his own shirt when he saw who it was. Obi-Wan merely mumbled a few choice words in another language and covered his face with his pillow.  
  
"Get dressed. Meet me at the pool entrance in ten minutes. I have a surprise for you. I think you'll like it."  
  
Startled by the sincerity in her voice, Obi-Wan sat up in bed. "Are we going swimming?" he asked.  
  
Ceal shook her head. "No swimming today. Just get dressed and meet me in ten minutes; you'll see." With another smile she left, her lavender dress billowing out behind her.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Garen, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon arrived at the pool with time to spare. Just as they prepared to sit down on a bench, Ceal entered, outfitted in a plain, light blue tunic with ankle-high boots and the large duffel bag she seemed to carry with her everywhere she went. She had pulled her thick hair back, allowing Obi-Wan to see her entire profile for the first time. Why did she suddenly look so familiar? She reminded him of someone he knew, albeit a little older and mature looking.  
  
Ceal motioned to the trio of Jedi to follow her. When she stopped at one of the large pools in the room, Obi-Wan became confused. She told them earlier that they weren't going swimming!  
  
"Ceal," he began, taking a step towards her. She didn't seem to notice he'd called her by her first name only as she pulled the bag over her head so that it lay diagonally across her upper body.  
  
"I thought you said we weren't-"  
  
"I did, and I meant it."  
  
"But the pool-"  
  
"Obi, we're not going swimming…from a certain point of view at least. Now ssh, watch."  
  
Ceal dove into the clear, deep pool and fumbled around on the floor for a moment. Suddenly, with a wave of her hand, the floor seemed to drop away and reveal a small portal, which she quickly swam through. The two apprentices glanced uncertainly at Qui-Gon. When a hand motioned them to follow, however, the Jedi Master did not hesitate. Obi-Wan and Garen both swam through a moment later.  
  
It turned out the portal was a special jelly-like film that prevented only water from passing through. It made Garen's skin tingle.  
  
Ceal stood a few feet off, a towel around her neck as she redid her hair after letting it down to dry it. Qui-Gon passed a towel to Garen and his apprentice. Amazingly, only their arms from their elbows down and their heads and necks were wet. Whatever skin was covered by clothes-including the clothes itself-was still dry. The portal had somehow managed to dry them.  
  
"One of my escape routes should the need ever arise," Ceal explained, indicating the passage through which they had just come. It was like a one-way mirror. They could see anyone in the pool, but no one could see them.  
  
Another moment passed as Garen toweled off his hair and Obi-Wan patted his braid dry before Ceal led them through another door, this one also hidden. Ahead of them stretched a training room large enough to rival one of the Temple's.  
  
Obi-Wan was impressed.  
  
"Sit on the mats. Garen, you're on that one; Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, you're on the other one."  
  
The three Jedi walked calmly to the set of mats, each a few feet thick and colored a deep purple-blue to go with the creamy color of the walls. Together they took up a fourth of the room.  
  
When Ceal returned a moment later, she held four shining weapons with sharp bladed ends.  
  
"Swords."  
  
Ceal laughed. "Yes, Obi-Wan, very good. These *are* swords. You have a very astute apprentice," she giggled to Qui-Gon, trying to be as serious as possible but not succeeding very well.  
  
Embarrassed, the brash, young Padawan ducked his head to hide a blush. Ceal passed out the weapons, being sure to show them the two blasters she had only recently strapped to her waist, before stopping in front of Garen. She took an offensive stance and swung experimentally at Garen. He didn't flinch.  
  
"Good," Ceal called. "Very good. As I can't trust you with your own weapons, we will work with these. Today is strictly sparring practice. We may come back another day to work over the obstacle course in the adjacent room, but this is all for today. I want all three of you to stay in good physical condition and I want to see which one of you is the best fighter. I need a full time bodyguard and I figured a Jedi would be better than all of my guards combined. So, impress me and you will be rewarded."  
  
Hearing no objections or questions, Ceal struck again at Garen, except this time she meant it. Garen parried and Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon followed their example on the other mat. The room was quickly filled with the clash of metal. Sweat rolled steadily down Obi-Wan's face, stinging his eyes occasionally. He had fought with a sword before: on the planet Gala where he went up against the arrogant Prince Beju. The sword had felt strange to him then, large and heavy and lacking the balance and harmony he felt with this lightsaber. But when he had truly called on the Force, the sword seemed to melt into his arm so that one could not tell where metal ended and flesh began. Although he could not harness the Force at the moment, it was how he felt now, displaying the same grace and harmony with the weapon that he had had so many years before.  
  
Qui-Gon, however, was not having the same luck.  
  
The venerable Jedi Master had fought with a sword quite a few times in his long, productive life. Although the last time he had sparred with one was quite a few years ago, he had not lost his touch with the weapon. Injuries and aging of such a large body, however, played their roles, and Qui-Gon found he was not having as much luck as his apprentice. Obi-Wan's small experience was enough to keep him on his toes. Not to mention, the activity on the other mat also distracted him.  
  
Garen and Ceal were fighting at an almost blinding pace. Garen was a good fighter, but he was much more comfortable behind the controls of a sleek ship, which made Qui-Gon believe that it wasn't him who encouraged the intense pace. In fact, as he watched closer, seeing Ceal spin rapidly and make a downward and diagonal sweep he realized she was on the offensive. She fought with well-disciplined ferocity. Her skills seemed impeccable, but there was something eerie about the style in which she fought. It was as though he had seen it before…  
  
With his attention having drifted for the umpteenth time since they had begun fighting over an hour ago, he did not see the shiny metal come sliding dangerously towards him. When cold steel brushed against the sweaty skin of his upper arm, however, his focus returned abruptly to the fight he was-supposed to be-engaged in. He felt warm liquid slide along his skin underneath the sleeve of his tunic. Obi-Wan's weapon dropped to the mat with a thump. The apprentice was by his side in an instant.  
  
"Master! Forgive me, I didn't mean to!"  
  
"Ssh," Qui-Gon comforted his distraught Padawan calmly, forgetting for a moment that he could not send soothing waves of the Force through the training bond to Obi-Wan. "It's nothing, just a scrape."  
  
Two small hands pulled the shredded, bloodstained material away from Qui-Gon's arm. Ceal scrutinized the wound, then walked towards the wall where she had left her bag. She returned with a small medkit.  
  
After instructing a very defensive Padawan and Garen to return to their quarters in the estate via the way they had come, Ceal knelt on the mats, pulling Qui-Gon with her. She cleaned the wound, then searched for a bacta pad. She dropped the first one on a dirty boot.  
  
"Sith spit!" came her murmured response.  
  
Qui-Gon looked more closely at the young woman before him. There was something he couldn't quite place his finger on about her, something that had bothered him about her since he first laid eyes on the politician. Over time, this *something* had turned to suspicion and finally to a hunch that he'd been hiding from his Padawan for quite some time now.  
  
Ceal Verune occupied traits that were familiar to him. Like her choice of language for starters…  
  
Her profound eyes that could bore holes into one's very soul; her fighting style and ability; the way she treated her slaves compared to other masters on Choet, especially Obi-Wan; and the way she would turn only her head and 'lend' someone her ear when she was busy but they still wanted to speak to her.  
  
His hunch turned into conviction and he trained midnight blue eyes on the down-turned face of Ceal.  
  
"Kenobi."  
  
Ceal turned her head slightly to show him she was listening. Her eyes never left the wound she was treating. "Yes, what about him? Besides the fact he's a regular thorn in my side."  
  
"I thought you should know that Padawan Kenobi will always be considered…*Little One* to me."  
  
This time, Ceal looked up into his smiling face, her own showing frustration. Slowly the frown disappeared and was replaced by a blush. Then a grin covered her face as well. "It seems you know me too well, Master Jinn."  
  
Qui-Gon's grin only grew larger. The relief in his eyes was evident.  
  
"I guess this means I have more practicing to do, eh?"  
  
He nodded, earning a gentle punch from her in the arm that wasn't injured, but would be soon if he didn't wipe that smug grin off his face. Ceal slapped a bandage on his would roughly, chuckling softly when he grimaced in disapproval.  
  
"You weren't supposed to agree! But maybe this will teach you to stay out of your Padawan's way next time he has a sword in his hands. I haven't seen you fight *that* badly since you and Mace got drunk for your birthday a few years ago and had to fight your way out of-mmph! "  
  
Qui-Gon clamped his large hand over Ceal's mouth and shot her a look that dared her to continue. He could feel her smile grow underneath his hand and silently wondered what sort of mess they were in now. The young woman never failed to amaze him… 


	8. Chapter 8

Cerasi5 and Maygin--I don't mean to rattle your brains, but I love reading your reviews as you put your thoughts in as to who you think Ceal really is. Although this chapter doesn't reveal anything new, the next ones to come certainly will! ^_^ Be prepared: Action is on the near horizon! Enjoy! --MK  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 8  
  
"Get packed Obi. I'm sending you back to the mansion today."  
  
No sooner had Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan been reunited that afternoon than Ceal had sought the latter out. She tossed a small travel bag to him from her place inside the doorframe. "You have plenty of daylight left, so no excuses that it will be dark soon. You and Sei will be escorted back by a few of my guards. I'm counting on you two to start preparations for the party next week."  
  
Obi-Wan felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He needed to discuss his escape plan with Qui-Gon!  
  
But once again, it seemed as though she had read his mind and Ceal ordered Qui-Gon and Garen out of the room. Obi-Wan collapsed face first into his pillow with a half-sigh, half-growl of frustration.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Half an hour later, Obi-Wan was throwing his small bag into the back of a speeder. He climbed in behind the two guards who would escort him and Sei back to the mansion. Obi-Wan offered a small, supportive smile to the chef as he left his son behind and joined the Jedi. It was the first time he and Yuko had been separated. Yuko clung tightly to Garen's leg.  
  
Ceal had not come to see them off, which Obi-Wan was grateful for. Every time he thought he understood her, she would do something to confuse him. He knew she was not his enemy, because his Temple training had told him no living creature was. It was just the dark energy that swirled inside them. How he longed to feel the Force again; if only he could discover Ceal Verune's true intentions!  
  
Obi-Wan cast one final look behind him as the speeder took off. Qui-Gon's serene expression held advice Obi-Wan was not sure he could listen to.  
  
*You must be patient.*  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
It had been four days and with only two inhabitants, the mansion seemed five times larger to Obi-Wan than it had before. Walking through the halls on his nightly inspection of the house, Obi-Wan trailed his fingers along the wall, coming to a stop when he reached a mirror framed with expensive gems and metals. He looked at his reflection in disgust. He looked very different from when he'd first arrived. His cheekbones were more prominent than they had been since he didn't eat as much as he should, and his unruly hair had grown to the point that the sides drooped down instead of sticking out. He would have to ask for a haircut very soon, but at least Ceal had had the decency to let him keep his braid. He washed and braided it faithfully every day.  
  
On his way through the top floor, the one that belonged strictly to Ceal, Obi-Wan spied a flutter of material. Creeping softly forward, he peered into the room he'd seen the movement originate from. Inside was none other than Antiyo Ganfor!  
  
But the medic had seen him too.  
  
Antiyo rushed Obi-Wan, pushing the younger man and nearly crawling over him in his haste to escape. Surprised by the older man's move, he lay stunned on the ground a moment, then leapt to his feet and took off in pursuit. Antiyo had a head start, but he could not outrun a Jedi. Or at least that's what Obi-Wan thought.  
  
Charging around a corner, Obi-Wan saw Antiyo suddenly fling open a window and hurl himself out. The apprentice was sure he would see the man's splattered remains below, but Antiyo had been prepared: a speeder hovered just under the window and by the time Obi-Wan skidded to a halt, the medic was already headed for the gates.  
  
It didn't take long to reach the huge wall, but Obi-Wan knew when he reached the gates that it was too late. He attempted to push past a large, blurry guard; he might still be able to track the thief, and having Antiyo arrested was one thing he could honestly say he hoped would happen.  
  
The guard, however, didn't budge. "Halt, Jedi scum!" he exclaimed.  
  
Obi-Wan kept trying. "You just let a thief escape!"  
  
One guard laughed and shoved Obi-Wan. Another stuck his foot out. Trapped between the two, the poor apprentice fell backwards and landed on the ground with a grunt. His face blushed red at the guards' increased laughter. There was nothing he could do here; he needed to contact Ceal.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Ceal's hologram projector was an antique model that had no doubt cost a fortune, but it was still very much useful. The young woman completed the connection immediately.  
  
"Obi-Wan?"  
  
Obi-Wan chose not to take satisfaction from her surprise. It was too petty for a Jedi.  
  
"I have bad news, Ceal. I just discovered Antiyo Ganfor sneaking around in the communications room where I am right now. He didn't seem to have anything with him, but I'm sure he stole something because he was very desperate to leave. I tried to continue chasing him, but the guards blocked my path. I suggest you hire new ones," he added as an afterthought.  
  
The miniature image of Ceal wavered slightly. The look on her face told him this news greatly disturbed her. Obi-Wan contemplated asking for permission to search for the man when a thought suddenly struck him.  
  
"Could he have gotten our lightsabers?"  
  
Ceal was shaking her head before he finished. "They're hidden in places where he would never dream to look. I'll gather Qui-Gon and Garen; we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning. A nasty storm is headed our way and the party is next week, so I was planning on returning soon, but this-" She shook her head sounding frustrated and closed the connection.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
When Obi-Wan's stomach began calling him, he left the communications room and hurried to the kitchen where Sei postponed his preparations long enough to prepare a bowl of broth for the apprentice. As always, Sei greeted him with a friendly smile, but even he could see something troubled the young man. He left him to his brooding.  
  
After the connection with Ceal had been cut, Obi-Wan attempted to contact the Temple. Previous attempts with his own comlink had proved fruitless, as Republic devices were blocked on Choet. That, perhaps, explained why Ceal had let him keep it. Trying to use the slave owner's device, however, had proved just as useless as the screen kept flashing a request for a password. It seemed the only communicating he would be doing would be with local, *on-world* businesses. He had already tried and failed to hack into the system.  
  
One interesting thing he'd found, though, were records of brief, sparsely placed communications with Coruscant. The durasheets had been placed under a large stack of legal-looking documents headed towards the incinerator. The question was, why would a representative from a non-Republic planet be contacting Coruscant, the central of the Republic itself? All of the times for the connections had been made late at night, which of course, led to more interesting questions that he had no answer to at the moment.  
  
Then there was the issue of his and his fellow Jedi's weapons. Ceal had told him they were in places Antiyo would never guess to look. That meant the hiding places were obvious answers. But what were these answers? The 'fresher just off the main hallway on the first floor? The kitchen? Their sleeping quarters?  
  
Obi-Wan quietly laughed at the different thoughts, then nearly choked on his food. He remembered something Qui-Gon had told him on Gala many years ago.  
  
*"Sometimes the obvious is the answer…"*  
  
Suddenly 'hearing' it from someone else had caused something to click.  
  
When Sei emerged from a large cooler, two small containers of different flavored icing he wanted Obi-Wan to try balanced carefully in his hands, he was surprised to find that the Jedi…was no where to be seen.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Obi-Wan decided that it felt good to stretch his legs since he had been cooped up in the house the past few days helping Sei, but his urgency to reach his and Garen's sleeping quarters overpowered the pleasure. As he ran past a window, a large bolt of lightning lit the sky outside. The storm Ceal had mentioned was blowing in fast. The guards monitoring the gates had probably already retreated to their own quarters along the massive wall.  
  
The door to his quarters loomed open like a giant invitation. They rarely ever shut it, as so few people came to the servant's floor. Once inside, he nearly dived under Garen's sleep couch, which lay closest to the door. He came up empty-handed. The same happened when he checked under his own.  
  
Straightening up, Obi-Wan glanced around his room. His eyes scanned every part of the wall, looking for any small seam or dot that might reveal a hidden door or something of the likes. Ten minutes later he was still in the same circumstance he had been in earlier. There was just one more place to look. Obi-Wan walked over to a small chest he and Garen shared. It was a hideous brown color with a rounded top. The intricate designs it had once possessed were scratched beyond recognition. Moving their belongings that lay in it to the side, he reached in and ran his hands along the bottom of it.  
  
Nothing.  
  
With one final thread of hope, he ran his hands along the bottom of the chest, this time on the outside. It would have been easier to just pick it up and turn it over, but the chest, just as everything else, was somehow attached to the wall and floor. The Jedi figured Ceal was worried about stealing, although why anyone would want that ugly thing…  
  
Obi-Wan's hand disturbed layers of dust and cobwebs as he searched the bottom of the chest, but the layers were surprisingly thin and the cobwebs sparse for supposedly having been there for nearly a century. The slaves cleaned their own rooms and Obi-Wan and Garen rarely ever dusted. Running his hand along the last few inches of the chest, he started to pull back, grumbling and generally angry with himself for jumping to conclusions again.  
  
Wait! There-a small, crude button carved from the wood of the chest in the form of a circle.   
  
Obi-Wan pushed it quickly and a hidden drawer emerged between the short, stubby legs of the chest. Inside were two slender, cylindrical objects.  
  
A quick check of Qui-Gon's room revealed another similar, cylindrical item.  
  
Obi-Wan left them where they were so as not to stir up suspicion, but his plan for escape had suddenly taken on a new twist.  
  
He fell asleep with a smile decorating his lips. 


	9. Chapter 9

JCslilangel1425 and hididdlydoneighbor--Welcome to the show! It's always a pleasure to meet new readers! ^_^  
  
Ziptango--Yep, Ceal's going to be in for a big surprise soon, but I'm not saying what it is. ~_^  
  
Thanks for reviewing everyone, you encourage me to keep posting this thing! And now for a wee-bit of action. Tootles and enjoy! ^_^  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 9  
  
"Here's my card-just have them take the money from my account-and here is the list. Try to get back before the storm starts up again, okay?"  
  
Obi-Wan nodded, taking the stiff credit chip from his 'owner' before cocking his head to the side and blowing his too-long bangs out of the way. As always, Ceal was sending him into town for supplies, except this time he would get a haircut as well. Whereas Qui-Gon usually performed the task of cutting his apprentice's hair, a tradition between the Master/Padawan team that had taken place since the very beginnings of the Jedi Order, he had been too busy as of late. He was always with the young politician now. It was like his apprentice had never existed. And this hurt Obi-Wan even more than the loss of the Force had.  
  
Ceal, Qui-Gon, and Garen had returned a few days ago after being delayed by a violent storm, but despite the young woman's claims that nothing had been stolen, Obi-Wan could still read worry in her expressive, purple eyes. She seemed constantly preoccupied, often disappearing into her private chambers for hours before returning to the hustle and bustle the rest of the household was engaged in as they prepared for the party.  
  
Whether Qui-Gon saw it too, he did not know. He did not see him long enough to ask. Garen had been staying busy since returning as well. The three had barely said five words to one another and returning to their rooms late at night, the two roommates had been too exhausted to talk.  
  
Taking the proffered lunch from Sei, Obi-Wan slid into the copilot's seat beside the guard that usually accompanied him on trips into town. It was also the same guard that always referred to him as 'Jedi scum'. Because of something Yuko had said a few weeks ago, his shadow was now known as Twinkle Toes. Obi-Wan chuckled softly at the memory.  
  
The blurry man stared maliciously at him as he took a seat. He didn't bother to hide his distaste. "You nearly cost me my job, you pathetic Jedi whelp. I ought to strangle and leave you somewhere."  
  
Obi-Wan grimaced and merely nodded. "Good day to you too."  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Despite the dark storm clouds gathering over the Market Place, Choetians continued to flock to it. Obi-Wan took care of his hair first, then pulled out the list Ceal had given him. A loaf of bread for him and his fellow servants, as Sei was too busy preparing for the party to make some for them-and Force knew Ceal had the money to spend-, blue milk imported from Tatooine for Yuko, and three bottles of the oldest Alderaanian wine he could find. Wait a second-wasn't Ceal too young to drink?  
  
Oh well, he decided, it's her life she's ruining, not mine. Well, sorta…  
  
A sign advertising fresh bread drew his attention away from the list.  
  
Obi-Wan looked through the crowd behind him, searching for his "companion". Usually the man always had him at point blank range with his blaster, but on this particular evening, Twinkle Toes was no where to be seen. Deciding the man would find him sooner or later since another mistake would most surely cost him his job, Obi-Wan kept walking. For a fleeting moment he continued on with his assignment, then seemed to realize that this was as good as ever an opportunity to escape.  
  
Walking briskly through the crowd and attempting not to garner attention to himself, he did not hear the cry for help at first, but his acute senses quickly honed in on it and he hurried to locate it.  
  
Just because he couldn't *currently* feel the Force didn't mean he was any less of a Jedi.  
  
The calls of distress led him to a nearby alleyway. An older man who turned out to be Obi-Wan's companion was gleefully pushing around a young girl no older than 15. By the looks of her frayed dress and torn shoes, he concluded that she had accidentally strayed into the rich market place, and Twinkle Toes had decided to teach her a lesson.   
  
Well, as long as Obi-Wan didn't have anything to say about it, that was.  
  
But the apprentice did and Obi-Wan decided he wouldn't put up with it. Dropping his empty basket, he charged the man.  
  
Twinkle Toes was caught completely off guard. The two wrestled for a moment until   
Obi-Wan was finally able to pin his arms behind his back and drop him to the ground. He frowned at the other man's head. "Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners?" he asked.  
  
It took a moment, but Twinkle Toes finally recognized the voice. "Jedi scum?"  
  
Obi-Wan found he could not resist the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
"Get off me this instant!"  
  
The young Jedi shifted his weight so he could firmly press his knees into the guard's back. He spotted a vibro-shiv in the guard's boot and quietly slipped it out, placing it in his own brown, scuffed up boot. The blaster his companion carried would do him no good. It was restricted to obeying his voice only. Leaning toward the man's ear, he whispered, "Promise me you'll leave the girl alone."  
  
Twinkle Toes only grunted and started to rattle off a long list of-not-quite-so-nice-words.  
  
Obi-Wan dug his knees in further. "Now, now, none of that in front of the young lady." Ideas suddenly began to swirl inside the Jedi's mind. What if he *did* escape now? He was sure he could find a ship or a long-range communicator or *something*!  
  
"Okay, okay, I promise!"  
  
"Good," Obi-Wan murmured, seeing his escape to his right. "And another thing: Tell Ceal it was fun while it lasted! Thank you kindly ma'am!" he added to the young woman, who realized in shock that he was talking to her and quickly fled in the opposite direction, back out into the busy streets.  
  
The apprentice leapt off Ceal's guard and was off like a shot. The alley wall ahead of him was large, but with his momentum and agility, he was able to jump on top of it fairly easily. With one last look behind him, he jumped down into another market place, this one for the poor who could not afford slaves or servants.  
  
The last thing Twinkle Toes heard from the escaping slave was a whoop of joy.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
"What do you mean you 'lost him'?"  
  
"He did some fancy Jedi trick of disappearance! One minute he was there, the next he wasn't! But Miss.Verune, don't worry! I swear I'll find him-"  
  
"Don't bother, you're fired."  
  
"Miss.Verune?"  
  
"I'll inform Tunny to meet you at the gate. Return my speeder and I'll give you the pay you earned for his week." Ceal ended the transmission without waiting for a reply. Qui-Gon, who had been appointed by Ceal as her full time bodyguard since the two had talked at the country estate, now leaned against the door frame. His large arms were folded across his muscular chest.  
  
"Obi-Wan is gone." It was not a question.  
  
"Yes." Ceal rummaged through some papers in an attempt to keep her hands busy, then retrieved her comlink. "I should contact Lipa. Tell him Obi-Wan is loose; tell him to bring him back-alive-and in good condition. That if he is returned without a scratch, he will be rewarded handsomely-"  
  
"No."  
  
Qui-Gon strode forward and placed a large hand on Ceal's smaller one, her knuckles white from holding the comlink so tightly. The Jedi Master took the device from her and looked to the window. "No," he said again, this time more gently. "Antiyo found the documents, but he didn't take them," he guessed before adding quietly and seriously, "things are beginning to unravel, aren't they?"  
  
Ceal nodded, her lips drawn into a tight line.  
  
The Jedi took a deep breath and slowly released it. Perhaps it was better that Obi-Wan had escaped, but-"If I know Obi-Wan like I think I do, then he will return."  
  
"The only question is, when?"  
  
"That I cannot answer."  
  
Outside, a massive, dark cloud moved in to block the sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
It soon became apparent to Obi-Wan on his day of escape that there was no where to hide on a planet where Jedi were looked down upon and spit at. His only option was to return to the mansion; but not as a slave, oh no. As a trespasser. There was no other word for it, he decided.  
  
As soon as dark fell, he started to dig a hole under the large wall. It looked as though something-or someone-had tried to get in before him, but failed. He soon discovered why.  
  
Large beetles, whose pinchers could make even a grown Wookie cry, suddenly swarmed up through the muddy ground. Obi-Wan stumbled and fell to his back in his hurry to get away. The ground sucked at him. It had rained earlier and now, as he lay a few meters from the wall-and the beetles-it began again.  
  
What was he going to do now?  
  
Survive, he told himself. *Don't get caught and survive until I can get Qui-Gon and Garen out of there…*  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
The opportunity came two days later, much sooner than he'd expected. Cold, wet, exhausted, and hungry, Obi-Wan awoke to a chorus of speeders rushing past. He yawned and stretched. His neck hurt terribly from hiding in a cluster of trees close to Ceal's mansion for so long.  
  
The sky continued to release torrents of rainfall on him, with electrical shows lighting the sky up every now and then. He had remembered on the first night out that Choet's summer storms were not interspersed, but instead bombarded the planet during one week of intense, back-to-back demonstrations of Mother Nature's fierce, untamed glory.  
  
Stifling another yawn and thinking about how nice a warm bath would be at that moment,   
Obi-Wan checked for people on the sidewalks below. Seeing none, he leapt nimbly to his feet and ran to the North Side of the mansion where the gates were. Fancy speeders with transparent tops lowered to discourage expensive dresses and suits from getting wet drove slowly through the open gates.  
  
Parked to the side and half hidden by a cluster of trees sat a lonesome, silver speeder. Obi-Wan would have recognized it anywhere.  
  
Antiyo was here.  
  
The Jedi apprentice wasted no time in hurrying to the deserted speeder. In the back seat he found a briefcase nearly bursting with medical data sheets. Also in the back, spread out carefully so as not to garner wrinkles, was a custom made tuxedo jacket. Obi-Wan slipped it on, grateful that the rough material could not touch his skin. It was a little big for him, but after settling into the driver's seat, he found it to be an advantage. Very little of his wet, dirty tunic or pants could be seen.  
  
Obi-Wan rummaged through a few small compartments until he luckily found a pair of tinted glasses and a hat. He took the time to hide his dripping Padawan braid, then bravely started the speeder and approached the gate.  
  
"Name please," a guard asked of him.  
  
Obi-Wan kept his head bent and stared straight ahead, avoiding eye contact and hoping the hat would help conceal his face. "Antiyo Ganfor."  
  
It was not hard to mimic the corrupt medic's voice.  
  
A smile split the guard's face. "I wasn't sure if you'd make it, Boss. That girl's increased security since she learned of you getting in and since the Jedi pup escaped. It's not like we work any harder, though. Heck, we didn't even work before, so why start now?"  
  
"Why start indeed…" Obi-Wan murmured disgusted.  
  
Sudden movement behind the guard caught Obi-Wan's attention and made his blood run cold. Lipa and Twinkle Toes were coming out of the guardhouse…right behind Antiyo.  
  
With a nod of his head, which the guard returned with a salute, Obi-Wan took off in the speeder. Behind him he heard this: "Imbecile! That was the Jedi pup! Someone stop him   
before he can get into the house!"  
  
Time was running out.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Garen was running crazily from kitchen to banquet hall and back again as dozens of low-life politicians and other important figures began to fill the house.  
  
Ever since Obi-Wan's disappearance a few days ago, he had lost some of his usual vigor. He worried for his friend. Choet was unkind to Jedi, especially those that could not harness the Force. Knowing this, Sei offered him a supportive smile whenever he could. Like now, when he was elbow deep in soapy water, trying to quickly wash a bowl Yuko had knocked over. The boy had been trying to help, but he was nervous with all of the activity and had moved too quickly, too close to a bowl near the edge of a table. Luckily, it had been empty.  
  
Scowling, Garen slammed a tray down on the counter. A senator or someone of the sort had decided they didn't like the flavor of the treats he had offered him and had proceeded to pour his entire glass of wine onto the tray while his 'friends' stood by laughing. "He could use a lesson in manners," he started mumbling threateningly, "and I could be the one to teach him!"  
  
Sei laughed quietly at the young man's fierce attitude.  
  
Reclaiming his sanity-at least for the moment-Garen handed Yuko a basket of fresh flowers to hand out to the women attending the party. They were flowers that Obi-Wan had planted earlier that year when the cold spell had finally relented.  
  
"Psst! Garen!"  
  
"What Obi-Wan? Can't you see I'm busy?" Garen called over his shoulder, heading back towards the stairs that would take him to the party, a new tray of pastries in his hands. He'd taken two steps when he froze and backtracked.  
  
*"Obi-Wan?"*  
  
"Ssh, yeah!"  
  
"Stars and galaxies, Obi-Wan! What are you doing back here!" He lowered his voice to a whisper and knelt near the low counter where the voice was coming from. Obi-Wan's familiar ginger-topped head popped out from the darkness.  
  
"Saving your lousy butt, that's what I'm doing back here. I've got a plan, but I need your help."  
  
Quickly he explained about the lightsabers. Garen agreed to get them as soon as he could.  
  
"Where's Qui-Gon?"  
  
"The same place he's been since we returned from the country house: With Ceal."  
  
"Well, where's Ceal?"  
  
"Headed towards the banquet hall for the party."  
  
"Good," Obi-Wan murmured, then snuck towards another staircase that led to the basement. He had to get to the power generator so he could program it to shut off all electricity at his command.  
  
"Obi-Wan?"  
  
The Jedi Padawan turned. Garen was staring at him wistfully. It seemed his hope for freedom had finally returned.  
  
"May the Force be with you. And good luck."  
  
The apprentice grinned. "There's no such thing as luck."  
  
Another moment and he disappeared from view. 


	10. Chapter 10

Big thanks to SCslilangel1425 for seeing that I had a new chapter up and reviewing it. Thank you!!!  
Now, it's high time for some action, wouldn't you say? : -)  
Enjoy! --MK  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 10  
  
"Go to the main chamber on the top floor. There's a utility closet on the right of the turbolift-you know the one. It has a hidden door that will lead you to a staircase. You'll eventually wind up in the sewers; there are tunnels under the city that lead everywhere. Let the Force guide you to where you need to go." The dark, slender figure that spoke waved a hand in the direction of the turbolifts.  
  
Another mysterious being, this one tall and musculature nodded gratefully. "Thank you. I know you'll take good care of them. May the Force be with you."  
  
"May the Force be with you."  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Obi-Wan pulled out the battered comlink he'd kept tucked in a tunic pocket since arriving. It had been blocked from use on the planet since he had landed here, but now he would use it to connect to the power generator. As soon as he pushed the activator button, the lights would go off.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
The banquet hall was filled from wall to wall with people dressed in fancy clothing, milling about the room and chattering about the lastest gossip. Suddenly, spotlights danced to the door. Ceal emerged, dressed in a splendid silver dress, dotted with rare, clear gems called monadids. Her lips were painted bright red, her hair pulled back in a bun and braids. Men hurried forward to walk her to the small, round stage in the middle of the room, despite the dismayed looks from their wives or dates.  
  
Ceal seemed completely oblivious to them. Her long, billowing dress made it look like she was floating. The stage allowed her to view everyone as her guests gathered around to hear. "Welcome, welcome!" she called excitedly. "First, I want to thank everyone for coming. It's an honor to see you all this evening."  
  
Murmured responses emited friom the crowd. Ceal had become a well-respected politician during the short time she had been active on Choet, despite her young age of 17 years.  
  
"Second, I am sorry to say that the Jedi you had all expected to see perform this evening will not be able to make it-"  
  
Without warning, the lights completely went out. A bolt of lightning lit the sky outside and the light traveled through the floor to ceiling windows. The guests caught sight of the shiny glint of light against metal. Ceal uttered a small cry of shock. A dagger was pushed bluntly to her throat.  
  
"On the contrary, Miss.Verune, I decided to come after all."  
  
"It's the Jedi pup!" someone hissed in distaste.  
  
Women shrieked in alarm at the sight before them. One man moved forward.  
  
Obi-Wan would have none of it.  
  
He stepped back, closer to the edge, and pushed the dagger closer to his prisoner's neck. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room and the wide eyes of Ceal Verune. The man backed off slowly and Ceal pushed herself further into Obi-Wan's chest to try to avoid the sharp weapon. What the crowd didn't know, however, was that he would never kill a living creature out of cold blood. He was a Jedi; he would never do such a thing.  
  
Towards the back of the room, where the stairway for the servants stood hidden my small, planted trees, Garen slid to a frantic halt. He had just returned from searching their quarters and had found no lightsabers whatsoever. He had to warn Obi-Wan, but he could see it was already too late.  
  
Suddenly, the lights dimmed on. In the large doorway through which Ceal had arrived stood Antiyo Ganfor. He pointed a long, thin finger at Obi-Wan. In the other hand he lightly held a blaster. Obi-Wan met his putrid gaze without so much as blinking.  
  
Antiyo stood with his legs spread slightly and placed one hand on his hip. With the other, he waved his blaster at Obi-Wan. "That, Ladies and Gentlemen, is a monster, a cold-blooded killer! He invaded our planet, attacked securtiy forces and innocent bystanders-" At this, the drunkard Obi-Wan had met on his first day in town stepped out from behind Antiyo. Lipa followed soon after, each holding a blaster loosely at their sides.  
  
"-And plundered valuable goods from your fellow Choetians! The Jedi are a filthy race that should be disposed of immediately!"  
  
Someone in the crowd pumped his fist in the air and began shouting. Soon, the entire group was chanting. "Kill the Jedi! Kill the Jedi!"  
  
Garen groaned and moved further out of view, wondering when he might have a chance to get those two out of there. It seemed Obi-Wan's rescue mission had turned into Garen's.  
  
Antiyo smiled from his place just inside the doorway, proud of what he had done. He allowed it to continue a few more moments, reveling in the desperate look that passed briefly over Obi-Wan's face every now and then before he held up a hand. The crowd slowly hushed. "But my friends, that is not all!" he exclaimed. "You have all been deceived by another foul-smelling rat! Observe!"  
  
A dark, blurry man leapt from the crowd and onto the stage. With expert ease, he swung a vibro-axe towards the two figures on the platform. Sensing the move, Ceal, along with Obi-Wan and his excellent reflexes, dived to the floor. Another man, this one wielding a wicked-looking, jagged-edged vibro-shiv danced towards Obi-Wan's neck.  
  
Ceal murmured something unintelligiable and rolled away from the man, allowing her former slave to do the same and avoid the sharp weapon. Deciding it had to end, she stretched her arm out. The vibro-shiv flew into her open palm. The crowd reeled in shock.  
  
By now, Antiyo was laughing heartily. He spread his arms wide to take in the crowd and the two figures, who were quickly standing. "Do you see? Ceal Verune is not the daughter of a wealthy diplomatic family. She is just another pawn in the disgusting Jedi Order." Here he dropped his arm, leveling the one with the blaster at Obi-Wan's head. Lipa raised his to Ceal's. "And we are here to put them both out of their misery."  
  
With the cheering of the crowd ringing in their ears, Antiyo and Lipa closed their fingers around the triggers. Ceal and Obi-Wan traded fleeting glances, then jerked and fell in a heap on the stage floor. Before anyone could move towards them, however, Garen somersaulted over the guests' heads. He reached the two Jedi and tugged at their hands. Both arose swiftly with no obvious injuries.  
  
As the three Jedi raced through the shocked party-goers and out the door, Antiyo calmly reached out and shot the drunkard in the foot.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
"This way, hurry! Through the hatch!"  
  
Garen jumped blindly into the small hatch Ceal had indicated, and immediately found himself sliding through years of accumulated dust. He heard his two comrades soon follow.  
  
When the chute finally ended, he was thrown into a stream of murky, brown water. Something he didn't want to identify floated past. With a large gasp to pull in fresh air, Garen leapt to his feet and immediately regretted it. His head hit roughly against the low, stone ceiling. Wondering where in the galaxy they were, he turned around in search of Ceal. Instead, he came face to face with a very wet, very dirty, and very peeved looking Obi-Wan Kenobi. It was all he could do to keep from laughing and somehow he managed to gather enough seriousness to blurt out, "I *lo-o-ove* your new look, Obi-Wan!"  
  
With a mischievious glint in his eyes, he ducked the incoming punch and turned his attention to Ceal, whom was busy ripping the lower-half of her dress off so that it came to her knees and made it easier for her to walk through the slimy water. She nodded towards the dark tunnel behind her and motioned for them to follow quietly. Seeing as it was their only option, the two young men trailed after her.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
"I don't like this. Not one bit," Obi-Wan was saying the following day. Ceal had led them through twisting, maze-like sewer tunnels until they'd eventually ended up at their current location: A large, vault-like are that was free of the offending brown water. Ceal had disappeared behind a half-wall that night for privacy, but when Obi-Wan had awaken, she was no where to be seen.  
  
Garen didn't seem to share his worries.  
  
"Really, Obi-Wan, haven't you learned anything in your eight years as an apprentice?"  
  
"Obviously not if you think I'm over-reacting."  
  
Garen sighed loudly and leaned against the sewer wall. He started to run a hand through his thick, black hair when he remembered all the things possibly dried in it. That in itself made him shudder. "That's not what I meant and you know it," he began. "What I mean is that you should learn to have more trust in people."  
  
"I usually leave that up to Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan murmured in disgust. "He seems to give more trust-and time-to total strangers than his own Padawan."  
  
"You're not being fair, Obi-Wan."  
  
He sighed. "I know, I know. But even though there seems to be all this evidence leading to the idea Ceal is a Jedi, I just can't get it out of my mind that there's still a piece missing from the puzzle. I know the Jedi Order is big, but she's only a few years younger than us-a year younger than Bant in fact-so why wouldn't we recognize her? Not to mention, her lightsaber skills are exceptionall if what you tell me is correct. Shouldn't she have been in the advanecd saber classes while we were taking them?"  
  
Garen shrugged. "I see your point, but she's probably part of that new program started a few years ago that trains undercover Jedi. 'Ceal' most likely isn't her real name."  
  
Obi-Wan nodded. "I figured as much, but there's still something about her I can't quite place…"  
  
The young Jedi tensed and turned to his companion. "Garen, why do I suddenly get the sensation we're being watched?"  
  
"Because maybe you are, *Yoda*. Geez, if you get any smarter, they'll have to kick the *real* green troll off the Council and put *you* there in his place. Now move the braid, Kenobi. That is, unless you want it cut off, and it's much too pretty to do that."  
  
Obi-Wan froze and blinked in surprise as the hum of a lightsaber igniting reached his ears. He knew that voice and he knew it well. It was the *last* voice he'd ever expected to hear again… 


	11. Chapter 11

JCslilangel1425--Thanks for the review! I always look forward to hearing what you guys have to say. ^_^  
  
Ziptango--An evil Sith? LOL Well, I hope I'm not! I'm all for the Jedi. ^_~ Besides, these are only *minor* cliffhangers compared to some I've read and some you may yet to see with Patience is Key. :)  
  
Cerasi5--That's OK. I totally understand. If I had to go without the internet for a week, my mailbox would probably overflow amongst other things. (Not to mention I'd go crazy if I couldn't read all of the fanfics I'm following!)  
  
Sorry to make you guys wait so long for the next chapter. I was going to post yesterday, but ff.net was having one of its annoying spells. Anyway....hopefully this chapter will explain a lot of your questions. Enjoy! ^_^  
  
--Marie K.  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 11  
  
"Why in all the galaxy are *you* here?"  
  
"Well hello to you too. Hi Garen."  
  
Obi-Wan spun towards the newcomer, shock registering briefly across his face as he realized what had been under his nose the entire time. "You…You were-"  
  
The figure curtsied with an imaginary dress, then saluted him with her brilliant blue-green lightsaber. "Ceal Verune, although you might know me better as Jedi Padawan Marie Kenobi. Am I correct?"  
  
The mocking tone of her voice did not slip past Obi-Wan. He was preparing to respond when Garen exclaimed, "I was infatuated by your *cousin*?" He blanched. "Oh, someone gut me before I change my mind! No wait, I'll do it myself!"  
  
Marie's brow raised before lowering again menacingly. "Gee thanks, Garen. I feel the love. Really!"  
  
Garen furiously mussed his hair, as though the act would help him rid himself of any thoughts he'd previously been thinking.  
  
Carefully slicing through the two Force collars, Marie watched them fall and flashed the two young men a grin. However, in a rare show of anger, Obi-Wan called Marie's weapon to him and threw it to the ground. It landed with a clatter. Obi-Wan backed against a wall and slid down. Being unable to use the Force for months and then suddenly being filled with it again had given him a Sith of a headache, but oh, it felt so good to be connected with the mystical power again! He felt as though his body was a dry riverbed whose water had been blocked by a dam for a very long time. And then suddenly, the dam was destroyed and the water flew in with such power that, had he been standing in that riverbed, he would have been knocked down and swept away.  
  
Quietly and calmly, Marie stretched her hand out, calling back her weapon and sitting down a few feet ahead of the disgruntled apprentice. Garen joined her on the ground.  
  
"Do you think we could start over, Obi-Wan?"  
  
The oldest of the three Padawans kept his head bowed, moving only his eyes to take in the young woman sitting cross-legged before him. Marie was the only child of his father's brother and virtually the only true family he'd had contact with. She was an excellent swordsman, or rather swords*woman*, from beginning her training with the weapon at a younger age than normal. Not to mention she had the best teachers to tutor her-Yoda and Qui-Gon (when he was available) to name a few.  
  
Marie was also part of the UJP-Undercover Jedi Program. It was still fairly new compared to everything else in the Temple. The UJP had been in existence for roughly five years. Not many had thought it would last this long and others had *hoped* it wouldn't. These 'others' were mainly members of the Senate, but some were fellow Jedi. A few, including some members of the Jedi Council, opposed the program greatly. Their thoughts were that all Jedi should know the fine points of undercover work, but the supporters of the UJP and the masters in charge of the program believed that, in the changing age of the Republic, Jedi were even more important to its survival. Even though no one mentioned it, it was well known that the students who would graduate from the UJP would become-*expendable*-as knights. It was a grim, short future that most of the students would face if they continued their training.  
  
Still others believed the UJP would repeat what the Jedi Starship Pilot Program had done: Failed. The JSPP had only lasted roughly a year and a half, and although the UJP had lasted longer, many believed it would still fall apart.  
  
Each year, the half-dozen Jedi Masters in charge of the program would pick ten senior Temple initiates who looked as though they showed promise in the area of undercover work. From there they would teach them the lessons needed for such dangerous and delicate work, and at the end of the year, five would be chosen to continue the training. Part of their training would also include instructing the next year's batch of potential undercover Jedi. Marie had been 12 when she was chosen to join the program, which was just beginning its first year of existence. The masters had been deeply impressed by her skills with the lightsaber and after being picked at the end of the year to continue training, she had given up the opportunity to be apprenticed to a master, although she still retained the title 'Padawan' and the traditional Padawan braid. She had been with the program ever since.  
  
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes slightly. Marie was all of that and a little more-including being a deeply imbedded thorn in his side!  
  
*How had it been possible for her to fool him all these months!* he thought hastily.  
  
The last time he'd seen her take on a different identity had been at the Temple when she'd poised as an off-world visitor who had accidentally wandered into the Jedi's large home. He'd immediately seen through her disguise, which of course, had caused him to blurt her real identity out rather loudly and thus bring a bright red blush to her gray painted skin. It had then erupted into a verbal argument, which quickly turned into an argument dealing with lightsabers *without* the approval or supervision of a master. Yes, it was safe to say they often did not get along well and the punishment they had received caused them both to steer clear of one another for over a year.  
  
This time, however, she had done an excellent job of concealing her identity, although he was sure the Force collars had helped. Her abilities had definitely improved; that much he had to admit. None of this made him any happier though; he wasn't supposed to be bested by his younger cousin!  
  
Marie shifted slightly on the cold, stone floor, and Obi-Wan blinked slowly as he compared her to who she had been. Marie had straight brown hair that fell slightly below her shoulders and blue-green eyes that mirrored his own. The only difference between their eyes was that hers held a quality similar to Qui-Gon's: No one could hold her gaze for very long before they felt they had to look away. When in the company of friends, she usually left her face open so that they could see what she was feeling. But when it came time to perform her duties, her expressions were about as easy to read as a Tusken Raider's. Marie and Obi-Wan were both brash, often impulsive, and always ready to follow their feelings, although Obi-Wan had always been a little more so than his cousin. Whereas Obi-Wan's biggest fault was anger, Marie's could be her…personality. Sometimes she said or did things that were not considered-*appropriate*-for a Jedi, especially a Padawan. Her spunk and sarcasm could rival anyone's.  
  
Now that he thought about it, Obi-Wan realized just how different Ceal and Marie were, which gave him an excuse to believe he really shouldn't have realized who the slave owner was. Ceal Verune had curly, blond hair with blue streaks and purple eyes. Her skin color had been similar to sand and she'd held a thick accent. Marie's hair and eye color were drastically different and she had a tan similar to Obi-Wan's, although hers was no where near as dark since she rarely went on missions. The UJP was still a work in progress and five years was the minimum time of experience required for students to have if they wanted to take a mission.  
  
"Obi-Wan? Please don't ignore me. You don't understand!"  
  
Marie had also not developed the accent from their home world like Obi-Wan had, although they had both been brought to the Temple at six months.  
  
Obi-Wan finally looked up and acknowledged his cousin. "Go ahead and explain yourself then since you say I don't understand. I'm sure you have a very legitimate reason for holding three fellow Jedi captive and Force-blind for seven months."  
  
Garen rolled his eyes. The two of them bickered constantly.  
  
"I don't have to explain myself to you." Marie stood up and immediately sat down again. "We don't have time for this," she muttered, looking around the tunnel nervously like she expected trouble to appear out of thin air at any moment. She traced her finger across one black-knee high boot. A line was left in the dust that had accumulated while she had hidden her Jedi attire. She looked once more around the tunnel, then reached into her cloak. Her hand appeared a moment later with two lightsabers, which she swiftly distributed to their rightful owners. Obi-Wan tucked his into his belt immediately. *Finally*-he was beginning to feel whole again. There was just one more thing-  
  
"Qui-Gon, he-"  
  
"Where is he?" Obi-Wan asked anxiously.  
  
"He-"  
  
"I'd die if anything happened to him, Marie. *You know that…*"  
  
The young woman sighed and brushed a piece of stray hair behind one ear. "If you would just listen for once." Her tone was one of exasperation. Her cousin was as stubborn as a bantha! "I set Qui-Gon free yesterday right before the party started. Something in the Force told me to. And Obi-Wan, please, for once, just forgive me without demanding a freighter load of answers first. The Force collars were necessary. My ability to shield has improved since we last talked, but not nearly enough to keep out a Jedi Master for long periods of time. Or someone like you for that matter, who's had tons of practice. Face it. During some point of your seven month captivity, my shields would have dropped enough-even if only for a few seconds while I dealt with those nasty politicians-for you to identify who I was."  
  
The tenseness in Obi-Wan's shoulders slowly dissipated. He was feeling better now; his head felt clearer as he saw the truth behind her words. "Everyone at the Temple thinks you're dead. Some of the children were still very upset when Qui-Gon and I left for our last mission. What exactly happened?"  
  
Marie unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and began to turn it over in her hands. It was a bad habit formed from eagerness or uncertainty. There was obviously something on her mind that she was undecided on. Finally, she relented.  
  
"I was with Master Onpi learning a new survival trick when Master Yoda and Master Windu appeared. They informed me that I was going to be sent on a long mission. (Undercover work, of course.) That was over a year and a half ago. My job was to pose as the adopted daughter of two wealthy, prominent politicians-the Aktins," she said, looking briefly at Obi-Wan, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You see, they told everyone that they could not have children, but in fact, they could. They had a daughter who showed promise of being Force-sensitive. They wanted her to have a better life than what Choet could offer; they wanted her to become a Jedi. Choet is not a member of the Republic, however, and the couple knew about the strange occurrences that took place directly beyond the planet's atmosphere, especially to Republic mediator ships. They wanted the treachery to come to an end so that Choet could join the Republic, end slavery, and prosper because of these things. As a matter of fact, on the day the couple "perished", they were actually on their way to Coruscant with their daughter.  
  
"So you see, I appeared as the adopted child and took over the family business. Overtime I was able to gain power and respect. Choet is much more unstable and barbaric than one would see on first glance. The people are crying out for a leader who will treat them fairly and give them what *they* really need, not what the leader thinks he needs.  
  
"Six months into the mission, Garen's ship was blown from space. You see, up to that point, the only information I'd been able to garner was about illegal actions on planet, which of course I expected to run up on sooner or later. The information didn't seem to be connected with my mission, however, so I set it aside. But when Garen's ship was purposely attacked by a Togorian Warship, I rechecked my records. It turned out someone on the planet was paying the Togorians to shoot down any ships that may hold Jedi. Choetians rarely travel off planet so none were shot down. My only conclusion was that someone on Choet had a bone to pick with the Jedi Order specifically and not the entire Republic.  
  
"I discovered Garen in a prison cell, unconscious. Seeing as slavery was common on Choet and not wanting to arouse suspicions, I offered to buy him before he was to be executed. Then I offered to pay Lipa for every Jedi caught *on* planet and handed over to me. I don't think he heard that particular part."  
  
Marie paused to catch her breath and collect her thoughts. She turned to Garen. "A Master and Padawan team arrived shortly after you did, but I smuggled them off planet before you found out."  
  
"Like you did with Master Rees," Obi-Wan volunteered.  
  
"Yes. I sent Master Rees back to the Temple as soon as possible. I was worried about her declining health. The crash and arrest took a lot out of her. The only Jedi besides yourselves that know about this mission are the Council, the Jedi I have smuggled back to the Temple, and your master, Garen."  
  
The young man nodded. Marie knew about all the times Garen had spied on her. Snapping her lightsaber back onto her belt, she turned to look at Obi-Wan.  
  
"Then you and Qui-Gon suddenly appeared. I became worried that you would unintentionally blow my cover, but I couldn't send you back to the Temple because of all the attention the two of you had attracted. When you and Garen pulled that prank with the banner in front of the 12 politicians, it angered me. I thought I was close to discovering which one of them was behind the plot to enslave and kill Jedi traveling close to the planet."  
  
Marie sighed loudly and looked briefly to the ceiling as though she didn't want to continue. Her eyes focused quickly on the two young men, however, when she turned back to them.  
  
"And then the trouble started with Antiyo. The incident that occurred while only you and Sei were in the mansion and the disaster at the party made me see the truth. What you had unknowingly suspected all along about Antiyo, Obi-Wan, was the key to unlock the answer I had been seeking."  
  
Reaching into one of the pouches on her belt, Marie retrieved a small data pad and handed it to her comrades. She gave them a straightforward summary of what the long text message was about.  
  
"Antiyo Ganfor was the fiancé of the late Jenna Zan Arbor."  
  
Obi-Wan's blood ran cold as he traded a surprised glance with Garen. *This* was very unexpected. Jenna Zan Arbor had been a scientist gone mad with greed. She had tried futilely to discover the meaning behind the Force, going so far as to conduct experiments on unwilling hosts before ultimately draining them of their blood. Qui-Gon had been a victim of hers at one time and Obi-Wan had been devastated by concern and fear. Luckily, the resourceful Jedi Master had survived to tell the tale and helped in her capture. Zan Arbor had hung herself in her jail cell not long after.  
  
Everything was finally beginning to fall into place…  
  
Taking the data pad back, Marie continued. "I have all the evidence I need to put an end to this. Our only problem now is to find a way off-planet. Originally, I had just been planning to take an extended leave of absence, but that will never work now because Ceal Verune is technically 'dead'. Here." Reaching behind her, she pulled two fresh tunics with the works-cloaks, boots, utility belts, etc.-from her small bag before turning her back to them.  
  
"Get changed quickly boys. We have things to do and people to see."  
  
Obi-Wan allowed a small, triumphant smile to creep onto his face, then flipped his saber handle into the air. He had already yanked his dirty tunic off by the time it landed in his palm again. 


	12. Chapter 12

Ziptango--Yep, she's his cousin. I figured he had enough siblings and unknown children to last him quite a few lifetimes. ^_~  
Cerasi5--Thanks! Yeah, you've really gotta wonder: where did I get the character Marie Kenobi from? :-p This is my only self-insert though, so I should feel pretty proud of myself. And don't worry, she doesn't hog all of the attention. Qui, Obi, and Garen will continue to be the main focus.  
ChocoCid--Thank you....I think....^_^ Glad to see you seem to be enjoying it fairly well so far.  
  
This chapter's a little bit of a set-up, but it's action packed from here on out. Hope you enjoy, and please remember to review! ^_^  
  
--Marie K.  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 12  
  
"Hello again Garen, Marie…Padawan."  
  
Obi-Wan felt dizzy with relief at the sight of his master healthy, happy, and looking very Jedi-like again. Not to mention, for the first time in over five, long months, he could feel Qui-Gon's presence. It was like a breath of crisp, fresh air that filled his very soul. Qui-Gon gathered the Force around him and sent it to his Padawan in a cresting wave. It was filled with loyalty, affection, and happiness. Obi-Wan sent it back ten-fold as he took his rightful place beside his master, deciding to save any more intimate reactions for later when they had a chance to talk alone.  
  
Marie sighed happily and leaned against Garen's shoulder. "Aww, look, it's a Kadok moment! Where's my camera when I need it?"  
  
Qui-Gon gave the young woman one of his rare smiles, a twinkle lighting his eyes, and asked, "What's your plan?"  
  
Pushing off Garen, Marie replaced her traditional Jedi cloak with a nondescript gray cape from her bag. Pulling on two gloves, she shrugged easily. "I made friends one day with the son of a politician who seems to be backing Antiyo. If I can get onto the property, I think I can locate his quarters and ask for help off planet."  
  
"You *think*?" Obi-Wan asked skeptically with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Well, yeah…"  
  
"We're doomed," Garen muttered, none too quietly.  
  
Marie's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, really? Well if that's the way you feel about it, you can stay here and I'll go by myself."  
  
"Well, if you weren't so sure of yourself-" Obi-Wan began, but Qui-Gon cut him off.  
  
"Enough you two. We should at least give her plan a try."  
  
Obi-Wan contemplated responding with Master Yoda's infamous mantra of "Try not. Do or do not. There is no try." But Qui-Gon raised one eyebrow at Garen and him, daring them to object. Obi-Wan clamped his mouth shut.  
  
The Jedi Master directed his attention back to Marie and asked slowly, "Are you sure you can do this?"  
  
"Sure!" she responded quickly.  
  
Too quickly, Qui-Gon thought.  
  
Marie nodded and grinned enthusiastically. "Easy as plucking the hair off a Wookie. Now come on, we can get to the drainage grate near his house by going this way."  
  
Garen and Obi-Wan exchanged a quick glance. Obi-Wan mouthed something quietly. *"Easy as plucking the hair off a Wookie, eh? We'll see."*  
  
Garen laughed.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Obi-Wan cast a dubious look around the tunnel at the slime-slicked walls and murky brown water. He'd finally lost any remaining sense of direction that he had been able to keep since coming down here about three forks and two turns ago. "Hey Marie," he said, running towards her at the front of the group, "how do you know your way around the sewers so well? Did you study the maps and come down here in your spare time or something?"  
  
Garen coughed to hide his laugh at the assuming way Obi-Wan had said it. Who else would spend their free time in the sewers except Marie Kenobi?  
Qui-Gon turned to hide his grin.  
  
"As a matter of fact, yes, I did come down here during my spare time. Because you see, Obi-Wan, a Jedi must know not only how to enter undetected, but also how to move or escape undetected."  
  
Amazed at how much his cousin had matured during the long duration she had been here, Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut until they came to a stop under a sewer cap. Marie pulled a liquid cable launcher from one of her pouches and waited as it firmly attached itself to the tunnel ceiling near the sewer cap. She tugged on it forcefully with both hands to test its stability and began to climb. Halfway to the top, she stopped and looked down at the group below with a look on her face that suggested she had just thought of something.  
  
"Master Jinn?"  
  
"Yes, Little One?"  
  
"I apologize for my earlier deceit, but it was imperative that no one know my real identity."  
  
"Of course."  
  
A sly grin formed on the young Jedi's face. "You managed to see through my entire act, though. I should know by now that I can't get anything past you. And you, Garen, came very close as well. I'll have to be more careful next time."  
  
With that said, Marie climbed the rest of the way up and by wrapping her legs securely around the rope, she was able to free her hands and push the cap aside. As she latched onto the side of the gap with her hands and swung her legs up and out, Obi-Wan felt a brief pang in his chest. Cerasi had done similar acrobatics to get out of the sewers undetected on Melida/Daan. While she had been alive that was.  
  
Marie's straight, brown hair plummeted around her face as she looked back into the tunnel and flashed a grin. "Be back in just a second boys," she crooned, then pulled her hood up and disappeared from sight again.  
  
Obi-Wan traded a glance with Garen and raised his eyebrows. He'd be a Hutt's uncle if his cousin's plan worked.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
On the surface, Marie crept silently to a window on the side of the large house her 'friend' resided in. A well-aimed pebble thrown at the thick glass drew an immediate response.  
  
"Who's there?" a boy of 18 years demanded, poking his head out.  
  
"Psst! Down here, Xephelon!"  
  
Xephelon Terrant squinted his eyes. Suddenly, they widened. "Ceal! What in all of Choet are you doing here, creeping around like that? And why are you wearing those god-awful civilian clothes?"  
  
Marie looked down at her earth-colored tunic and pants; black, knee-high boots; utility belt; gray cape; and black gloves. Her suspicions had been confirmed. She was now firmly certain that Xephelon was a very stuck-up, rich brat.  
  
"Uh, nothing, Xephelon. I was just strolling past and thought I'd pay a visit."  
  
"Really?" he asked. "Why don't you come in for a while. Father wanted to speak with you."  
  
"I really don't have time…"  
  
Marie began to back away from the window, pulling her hood down lower as she did so. Something didn't feel right here; something seemed very wrong. Xephelon always spoke to her with the title Miss.Verune.  
  
Xephelon held up a finger. "Well then, wait a moment. There's something I want to give you even if you won't come in." He disappeared into the shelter of his dark room for a moment.  
  
*Oh yes, something was definitely very wrong here.*  
  
When the young man emerged again, he held a blaster in his hands. "Ceal, wait! Come look at this!"  
  
"Sorry, Xeph! No time!" Marie shouted over her shoulder. She may be young and still fairly inexperienced, but she wasn't stupid. By the time he emerged from his room, Marie was already half way back to the sewer cap and still retreating quickly in the direction she had come from. Only meters away from what was her safe haven, Xephelon's blaster and dozens of others operated by hidden guards opened fire. Diving blindly through the hole from which she'd emerged, Marie was caught by the strong, waiting arms of Qui-Gon Jinn and gently set back on her feet. White faced and panting for breath, she leaned against the sewer wall and glared at the venerable Jedi Master whom smiled innocently back at her.  
  
"You knew this would happen, didn't you!" she exclaimed.  
  
Qui-Gon arched one eyebrow, ignoring her lack of respect for the moment. "On the contrary," he replied, "I merely had a hunch something along these lines might happen and thought it best to let you have the learning experience."  
  
Marie huffed and inspected the rough gray cape that embraced her shoulders. Three holes the size of a womprat's eye dotted the edge and hem.  
  
Obi-Wan retrieved her liquid cable launcher and pulled the sewer cap back into place, then turned to stare at his cousin. Slowly, no matter how hard he tried, he could not keep the grin from forming on his face. A mischievous glint lit up those blue-green eyes. "Easy as plucking the hair-"  
  
"Oh, shut up!"  
  
Garen and Obi-Wan traded deeply amused looks, trying to cover up their laughter with their hands. When the quartet started to travel through the tunnels again, Obi-Wan sobered and unconsciously moved closer to his cousin, unable to forget that she was just as capable as taking care of herself as he was.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Later that day, huddled in a group to fight off the chill of night that lingered in the sewers, Marie looked up from where she'd been polishing her weapon and fixed Qui-Gon with an intense glare. "I could try again-"  
  
The Jedi Master nearly choked on the granola bar he was busily chewing on and forcefully shook his head. "Your dedication is admirable, but a solution will present itself, I'm sure. I hope…"  
  
Marie shot Obi-Wan a look that could kill as she sensed his dry sense of humor bubbling in his chest. "Don't say a word."  
  
He flashed her that irresistible grin of his. *{Do I really have to?}*  
  
Growling menacingly, Marie detached herself from the group. Hurrying to a corner of the petite room they shared, she looked up to the ceiling. A large crack in the roof allowed a tiny ray of moonlight to drift lazily down into the chamber. She crossed her arms defiantly and refused to make eye contact as Obi-Wan sauntered over and wrapped an arm over her shoulders. Finally, he noticed the unmistakable gleam in her eyes. The wheels in her head were spinning rapidly as another plan formed, no doubt. Suddenly she shook herself and looked up at him.  
  
"Did you know," she began, fondly tracing the prominent line of his chin, "that Yuko is Force-sensitive? Very, in fact."  
  
Obi-Wan didn't bother to hide his surprise with the one that shared his blood and name.   
"Is that why-"  
  
"It is. I knew I couldn't buy only Mr.Mutun and leave Yuko when there might be something I could do for him."  
  
"Yuko's too old, though, Marie. You know that-and not only is he a citizen of Choet, which, may I so strongly remind you is *not* a member of the Republic, but freeing slaves is also not part of our mission."  
  
"So it's *'our'* mission now, huh?"  
  
He smiled, but sobered when she turned distractedly back to the split in the ceiling.  
  
"I just have this awful feeling that if I don't help them, something terrible will happen."  
  
Blue-green eyes, almost identical to his own, stared back at Obi-Wan. He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. Marie was gifted with understanding both the Living and Unifying Force, and although her ability to control either wasn't very strong, she, like her cousin, was better able to read from the Unifying Force.  
  
Marie unexpectedly titled her head to the side and looked at Obi-Wan through the corner of her eye. The tiniest hint of a smug grin formed on her lips. "I have an idea," she murmured, barely able to conceal her excitement.  
  
Obi-Wan somehow resisted the urge to violently bang his head against a wall. 


	13. Chapter 13

Cerasi5--I'm glad you enjoyed the humor in the last chapter! It was definitely one of my favorite parts to write. ^_^ This is the first major chapter story I've written and I figured sooner or later I'd end up writing a bit of a Mary Sue. Hopefully this one hasn't turned out to be as bad as some of them out there. I did my best to keep most of the spotlight on the REAL SW characters and just provide Marie as a bit of a supporting character. (By the way, my middle name is Marie too! LOL That's where I got the idea for my name.) And even though Marie can't have a crush on Obi, there IS someone else she can grow to like, hint hint. LOL  
  
ChocoCid--Actually, the part about the "Kadok moment" wasn't a typo, although I can understand where you would have gotten that from. It's simply Kodak backwards. I like to incorporate some 'Earthly' themes into my work and I thought this would be a good place to do so. I did the same with the jewls 'monadids'. It's 'diamonds' with its letters mixed up. As far as the camera goes, I left it because my beta reader seemed to think it fit in OK. And this story is already finished--it was finished a few months ago as a matter of fact, so unless I do a special edition, you'll have to take what I give ya.  
  
Sorry for the delay, but hopefully I'll post a little more regularly now. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review! ^_^  
  
--Marie K.  
  
See Chapter One for disclaimer  
___________________________________________________________  
Chapter 13  
  
"I never thought I'd willingly come back to this place."  
  
Marie glanced briefly over her shoulder at Garen, whom had his eyes riveted on the massive structure before him, and let sympathy and apology bleed through the serious look on her face. Peering around the gargantuan wall towards the gate, she saw that it was heavily guarded. Lipa and Tunny were the most prominent figures. Antiyo Ganfor had taken over the large mansion where Marie had poised as an important political figure and kept three fellow Jedi captive as slaves. She would have told them all about her mission to save them from the anguish they had been through *if* she had been able to, but the mission was too vital to have been exposed so soon.  
  
Seeing their chance, Marie jerked her head upwards. As one, the four Jedi gathered the Force around them, forming it into springboards under their feet so that it catapulted them into the air. They landed on top of the wall with the lightness of a feather and struck out towards the back of the mansion. Obi-Wan finally spotted what he'd been looking for-an open window-and shot his cable launcher at a drainpipe nearby. He, along with the others, attached his grappling hook to the line and leapt off the wall.  
  
Protected for the moment by the darkness that always proceeded dawn, four figures, one by one, slid easily through the air and through the open window into the house.  
  
Finally soaring through the open window, Obi-Wan landed in a crouch, one hand resting comfortably on the hilt of his lightsaber as he rested the other on the cold, tiled floor and surveyed his surroundings. He had no doubt Antiyo had guards monitoring surveillance cameras somewhere, which meant they had to be extra careful, but for some reason, he picked up nothing from the Force-except desperation and overwhelming despair.  
  
Apparently it hit Marie harder than himself.  
  
In a blur of mahogany brown from her cloak, the young woman sprinted past her companions and to a flight of stairs around the nearest corner. By the time they caught up, they found themselves on the roof. Marie knelt at the edge, a wave of pure horror cascading easily past her weakened shields. Garen, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon reached her side just as the dark courtyard below became transformed by light-and ear-piercing screams.  
  
Arranged in the courtyard directly below them in the front of the house were five bonfires. Trapped and helpless in those huge fires, tied to large posts, were the five non-Jedi slaves Ceal Verune had owned-including Sei and Yuko Mutun. Watching merrily from a speeder nearby, just beyond the reaches of the huge fires' heat but close enough for the flames to cast shadows across his face was Antiyo. The smile on his smooth visage and his relaxed posture could only suggest that he was thoroughly enjoying watching the five slaves writhe in agony as their skin charred to black before his very eyes.  
  
Marie sucked in a large, lung filling breath as her throat constricted. Obi-Wan quickly clamped his hand over her mouth, sensing her intentions to scream. His hand muffled a sound that closely resembled a cry of denial before she choked on a sob and attempted to jerk away from him. Obi-Wan used his strength to overpower her and dragged her back to the stairway where he proceeded to push her against the wall and pin her there. "It's too late!" he hissed. "We have a job to do, remember? The mission-we must complete the mission!"  
  
The apprentice knew that if anything would bring her back to reality, it would be the reminder that she had a job to do.  
  
Pushing her cousin away, Marie turned towards him, her blue-green eyes flashing dangerously. But Obi-Wan knew that the raging eyes were not focused on him. Instead they were seeing past him, through the walls and space that separated her from Antiyo Ganfor and she was trying to come to terms with what he had done and let her anger towards him dissipate through the Force.  
  
A scream--a child's scream--that would have made even a Hutt's skin crawl suddenly echoed throughout the area before abruptly ending. The conflicting emotions in the young woman's eyes disappeared, leaving only calm reserve. Slowly she filled in the now empty place in her mind where the signature of a very special child had been with determination. She had a job to do…but it was times like this that she found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing by acting the part of a Jedi and not a normal human being.  
  
Easily reading her confusion, Qui-Gon stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on the young Jedi's shoulder. She looked up into those midnight blue eyes and found that, for the first time in a very long time, she could not hold his gaze.  
  
Qui-Gon was saddened to learn the fate that had befallen Sei and Yuko. They had both been very kind indivuals, innocent people thrust unknowingly into a war between the Jedi and Antiyo, good and evil. Through the bond he shared with his apprentice, he could feel that Obi-Wan was just as upset. Perhaps not as much as his cousin, but the young man had cared for the child and his father, and to see two innocent lives taken for no apparent reason always affected him.  
  
If only we had come sooner, the Jedi Master thought with a distressed sigh, feeling as he always did when beings close to him died. The sudden emptiness in the Living Force that had been filled by the five slaves' distinctively different Force signatures only moments ago reminded him that nothing was ever guaranteed in life except pain and death. And-if one was lucky-true love and the gift that was received when one was given the heart of a child.  
  
Immediately his thoughts drifted to Tahl, the woman who had been his true love before her untimely death, and Obi-Wan, the boy who had so willingly laid his heart out on the table for the then obstinate Jedi Master. Had he not accepted Obi-Wan as his apprentice…  
  
Mentally shaking his head and knowing the young woman needed consolation, Qui-Gon put aside the 'what if's' and reassured her of what the Force told him.  
  
"Yuko does not blame you," he said quietly. "He is happy to finally be free, although you should realize he did not resent you. He was, in fact, enthralled by you. You were more than just his master; you were his friend."  
  
Marie turned her blue-green eyes to the elder Jedi. "You sense all that?" she asked, a sense of wonderment and admiration in her voice.  
  
"He knows all that," Garen responded for the master. The faint sparkle of a lone tear could be seen making its way down his cheek. "And I do, too."  
  
An eddy in the Force pushed Obi-Wan into action again. "We cannot properly mourn them now. Antiyo could come back at any moment. We *must* get what we came for before he returns to the house. Where are the clothes, Marie?"  
  
With a brief nod of her head to acknowledge that she understood, Marie sprinted the rest of the way down the stairs and out into the halls.  
  
[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
Sei Mutun's room was just like any of the other now departed slaves'-furnished sparingly with a sleep couch, a small cabinet for any personal belongings, and a chest very similar to the ones that had hidden the Jedi's lightsabers. As Marie rapidly dug through the chest, occasionally pulling out a non-descript article of clothing, she thanked whatever god that might be listening for her freedom and opportunity to train to be a Jedi. She couldn't imagine any other way of life, and she knew, neither could any of the three men behind her.  
  
When at last she threw the last piece of clothing at Garen and turned around, the grin on her face was large enough to rival the frown on her cousin's.  
  
"I don't find anything comical about this-" he began, but Qui-Gon and Marie both cut him off.  
  
"On the contrary, Padawan, it's very…*charming*."  
  
"Yeah," Marie laughed, "to a 200 pound Twi'lek belly dancer!" She burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles.  
  
Obi-Wan's attire was--*interesting*--to say the least. He was not exactly an exceptionally tall young man--against Qui-Gon's massive size he was easily dwarfed and even against Garen he seemed short--but he had been taller (and thinner) than Sei while he'd known him. So it only made sense that, although the shirt and pants were plenty big, the latter was also plenty short. Obi-Wan had managed to collect for himself a pair of bona fide high waters.  
  
Thinking she had finally regained some of her former sanity, Marie turned to focus her attention on Garen to inspect the outcome of his transformation. This time, only her Jedi training stopped her from collapsing to her knees with mirth. With the bottom half of his washboard stomach showing, sleeves that pinched tightly below his elbows, and pants legs that were only a few inches from his knees, Garen looked like he had been set out under the blazing suns of Tatooine with wet clothing and left to suffer as his clothes slowly shrank. While he was still wearing them!  
  
Finally, the young Jedi was able to stop her laughing and come back to her senses, but not before threatening her cousin--mentally, of course--with blackmail of this very event at a later date. It was then that he had easily replied, *{Don't tell me you've forgotten about that holopic I have of you where you paraded around the Temple for a whole day with one of Master Yoda's gimmer sticks and green, floppy ears. I'm sure Master Yoda would like to know why his gimmer stick ended up in that day's soup…}*  
  
*{You wouldn't dare!}* she had retorted. *{It wasn't my fault I mistook the wine in your cooler for berry juice! Mace should have known better than to try and hide it from Master Yoda in your quarters!}*  
  
A gleam--a wicked gleam--had taken over the older apprentice's eyes. *{Nevertheless, you shouldn't have been snooping around in our cooler! And I wouldn't dare you say? Know me as well as you thought, you do not!}*  
  
*{You are evil, Obi-Wan Kenobi!}*  
  
*{Evil I am not. But innocent and adorable, I am!}*  
  
Qui-Gon had stepped in around that time before anything else could be said. He'd heard the entire conversation along the training bond and now it was all suddenly clear to him. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank the Force--He wasn't a sleepwalker and no, he hadn't gotten up during the middle of the night to drink half of the carton that had hidden the wine. So why had he felt so disoriented the next day? Oh yes, now he remembered. He and Obi-Wan had stayed up late watching horror-vids. Which reminded him--never leave Obi-Wan alone in a holo-vid store again…  
  
Abruptly the master's attention drifted back to the present and he closed his eyes. With a flash they were open again, urgency radiating from their depths.  
  
"We must leave. *Now*!"  
  
The three young Padawan Learners wasted no time in gathering up the supplies they had decided to 'borrow' and hurrying for the door. Qui-Gon led the way out, casting the Force out in waves, searching for trouble. Just as they reached the end of the hallway, a blaster bolt whizzed through the air and imbedded itself into the wall only centimeters   
away from Obi-Wan's face.  
  
Four lightsabers-purple, blue, green, and a mixture of the last two-sprang to life inside the hallway, illuminating four determined faces and two startled ones. Qui-Gon stepped out of the line the Jedi had formed and urged Obi-Wan through their bond to take the other two apprentices down to the yard in the back of the house. With a wave of support sent through the Force, Obi-Wan complied and led his two companions away.  
  
The two guards were still standing in a stupor when Qui-Gon's lightsaber became a blur of green light as he put it through a series of spins, arcs, and slashes. Had the guards known better, they would have realized the Jedi Master was performing a simple, fifth level kata. But they did not know better, and with a few shots fired randomly at the intimidating Jedi-whom immediately and effortlessly sent them back-the two guards turned and ran back down the hallway, to gather reinforcements, no doubt. Qui-Gon let an amused smile light his face up as he hurried after the others.  
  
He discovered his three comrades blending into the darkness underneath a tree near the wall. Still breathing regularly, despite his brief adventure, he murmured to them quietly, "I guess I was wrong. There was no real danger."  
  
The Jedi Master spoke too soon. 


	14. Chapter 14

Hmm, I bet you guys thought I'd abandoned this story, didn't you? Uh huh, I see you nodding your heads. :-p In all actuality though…I forgot about it. ^_^; But school's out now and I have nothing better to do, so it looks like I'll be posting regularly again. Enjoy!

--Marie Kenobi

_Previously, on "Patience is Key": Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Garen, and Marie revisit Ceal Verune's former mansion, only to run into _more_ trouble…_

_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 14 

  


"I have a bad feeling about this."

Obi-Wan turned confused eyes to his cousin. He saw her back and shoulders stiffen considerably. _"What is that supposed to mean?" _he hissed.

Marie turned to look at him briefly and he felt a tickling sensation move along his spine.

"Master Jinn?"

"I feel it." The tall Jedi nodded. "Obi-Wan, Garen—_Leave._"

Both apprentices began to complain, but the master cut them off. "We _cannot_ let them see what you are wearing. It will ruin the entire plan."

"But—" Obi-Wan tried.

His master fixed him with a stern glare. "It won't be dark forever, Padawan. Dawn is coming. _Now go!"_

With obvious reluctance, Obi-Wan nodded. The Force swirled momentarily before it surged around the two young men. Garen and Obi-Wan were over the wall in a heartbeat with the same agility they'd displayed earlier—even if their clothes were a few sizes too small now.

Marie smiled sympathetically at the Jedi Master, but he merely shook his head. "As much as I hate yelling at him—"

"It's for his own good."

"Yes. Now, where are those friends of yours?"

"I would hardly call them _'friends'_, Master Jinn."

"Is that so?"

"Well, yes—" Marie stopped midway through her sentence. Her eyes sought to see her companion's face in the dark. "That wasn't you, was it?" she asked, referring to what she thought he had previously said.

Qui-Gon reached for his weapon, an expression of deep seriousness causing the wrinkles on his face to stand out more so than usual. "No…it wasn't."

A golden light as bright as the sun suddenly flooded the yard behind the house. Momentarily blinded, the two Jedi had to rely solely on their trust in the Force—and each other—to deflect the blaster bolts that were unexpectedly screaming towards them. But, although the two had occasionally worked together at the Temple—under controlled circumstances—they did not share a bond, and this made things difficult.

Qui-Gon was accustomed to working with other Force wielders whom he shared no bond with and knew how to alter his fighting style to better be able to work with his partner. Marie, however, was still fairly sheltered by Temple life. Usually she fought by herself, as apprentices of the UJP were taught to survive alone. An undercover Jedi never knew when their identity might be discovered and they needed to know how to survive until they could either make it off planet themselves or help arrived to take them back to the Temple.

The lack of teaching cooperation in the UJP was something that would have to be re-looked at, Marie decided, letting her thoughts stray from the present to—what she hoped—was the near future when she returned to the Temple and debriefed the Council of her findings.

It was a great flaw in the training method she learned under and could not be allowed to stand.

And it was because of this very flaw that her movements had to be compensated greatly from their usual free flowing arcs and spins, to shorter, choppier blocks when Qui-Gon retreated to stand back to back with her.

The Jedi Master was able to deflect all of the laser bolts aimed at him, but Marie found it difficult to deflect all of hers. One managed to barely slide past her blade. Remembering at the very last moment that Qui-Gon was behind her, she bumped into him, putting him off balance while at the same time saving him from a blaster bolt in his shoulder blade. In knocking her comrade off balance, however, she caused him to miss an incoming shot. It soared past the green lightsaber and grazed the younger Jedi's leg.

Marie stumbled briefly, inhaling sharply as her mind registered the pain and attempted to release it through the Force. Qui-Gon was there immediately to make up for the shots she missed. "How bad is it?" he asked quickly.

She rotated her blade in front of her face, a maneuver Qui-Gon recognized as something that she must have picked up from his Padawan, and listened as she said through clenched teeth, "Not bad."

Nodding, he lunged forward to stop two blasts, then pivoted on the ball of his left foot to block another.

Then, without the slightest indication, the onslaught ceased. For the first time since the fight began, the two Jedi, breathing heavily through their noses and realizing their eyes had been closed nearly the entire time, took a look around their surroundings, which were still bathed in golden light. Huge spotlights kept the glow constant from where they were set in the gargantuan wall and old, twisted trees.

"I never knew you dreaded night so much that you had to have such a bright display of light installed," Qui-Gon remarked dryly.

"Neither did I." Marie took in the sight of numerous guards surrounding them on all sides but one and instinctively tightened her grip on her weapon, not bothering to wipe away the sweat that had gathered there. Choosing to ignore the fire shooting up from her leg wound, she took in a deep, shaky breath.

At the small sound of a whistle, the soldiers began to melt away from the Jedi and convene near the house. As they moved, Qui-Gon saw the bodies of many men that had been struck down by their own shots deflected back at them during the fight. He hated to kill if it could be prevented, but the Force had flown so easily through him that his recollections of the fight were blurry at best. He did remember, however, that his young friend was wounded and instinctively moved closer to her, just as he would have had she been his own Padawan. A growl leapt from the young woman's throat as he neared her and Qui-Gon looked to see what had attracted her attention so fiercely.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Obi-Wan crouched on the wall high above the group in the yard. "Garen—look!"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw it," he said, referring to how all of the warriors had suddenly ceased fighting and moved to gather around a single figure.

Antiyo Ganfor.

"They're outnumbered and I think she took a laser bolt in the leg," Garen murmured, sidling closer to his friend to see his comrades better.

"Mmm," Obi-Wan replied, looking around for something to distract or help fight Antiyo and his goons. His eyes took light when he found something they could use.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Well, if it isn't two of my closest friends in the entire galaxy—the great Qui-Gon Jinn and little Miss. Marie Kenobi. What brings you back to my humble abode?"

Marie's nostrils flared as she struggled to release the rage she felt within her. Qui-Gon laid a comforting hand on her shoulder and stepped forward, tilting his head toward their opponent in greeting.

Antiyo smiled.

"So you are the great Jedi Master I have heard so much about." Sarcasm dripped from his every word like a waterfall. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. If it weren't for you, my beloved—deceased—wife-to-be would be preparing for our wedding and she would have galactic fame for being the first scientist to discover the secrets of the Force. But now, because of all of your meddling, she is _dead._"

"It was her own choice," Qui-Gon replied calmly.

The Jedi Master's calm manner infuriated Antiyo. He had hoped to intimidate the Jedi with all of the soldiers but it seemed his plan hadn't worked. With blinding rage flashing in his dark eyes and his face flushed with anger, he reached behind him and snatched a blaster away from one of his personal bodyguards. He shot it—and it landed harmlessly in the dirt near the Jedi's booted feet without either one of them so much as blinking. Marie stepped forward to be equal with the elder Jedi, her expression calm now except for the slightest hint of scheming and mockery in blue-green eyes.

"I suppose that makes you feel better," she stated matter-of-factly.

Qui-Gon spared her a confused glance. She was purposely trying to rile up the deranged medic, but why? He reached out to her when she began to close the distance between the two sides, but the young Jedi halted him with a look that begged the elder to trust her. Qui-Gon let her go.

"I mean, sneaking up on two unsuspecting people—"

"I hardly believe you were unsus—"

"Excuse me; I wasn't finished!" she retorted with the same unnerving calm that Qui-Gon had used earlier.

Antiyo clamped his mouth shut, much to everyone's surprise—but no more than his own.

"You bombarded us with blaster bolts and intense lights without any warning what-so-ever, taunted, teased, and mocked us—not to mention _threatened_ us—and then you have the guts to throw a temper tantrum? _What's your deal man?"_

For a fleeting moment the yard was silent—and then Antiyo seemed to realize he'd just received a diatribe, a rather surprising diatribe, from a rather surprising young Jedi. With something akin to murder in his eyes, he raised the blaster still clasped tightly in his perfect, sandy colored hand and pulled the trigger.

To her credit, Marie had expected the raged medic to do _something_, but she had not known exactly what he would do. When the shot from the blaster came within centimeters of her black boots, she exclaimed something that sounded close to an "Eep!" and back-flipped, only to have another shot shower her with dirt half-way through a second show of acrobatic skills.

Green and blue-green blades sprung into existence once Marie was finally able to reach Qui-Gon's side. The master deflected a wild shot Antiyo sent his way before looking at the young woman, whom was attempting to release the burning pain from her leg wound into the Force.

"I'm hoping there was a reason for upsetting that raving lunatic," he grunted, twisting to the side to avoid a shot.

Marie, whom was standing at his shoulder now instead of at his back chuckled softly. "He's not a raving lunatic; he's just very misunderstood. _Very_ misunderstood," she added with an amused shake of her head.

Marie thought she heard the elder Jedi mumble a few obscene words in a language he probably didn't expect her to understand as a dozen soldiers, plus their psychotic leader, opened fire. But she understood what he had said—_completely._

"And you should know me well enough by now, Master Jinn, to know I never do anything without a reason. Heads up!"

Qui-Gon looked up just in time…to see a large tarp fall rapidly through the air—much faster than it would have naturally _without_ Force propulsion—and land deftly over Antiyo and his guards on the front line.

Lifting his companion into his arms, the Jedi Master soared over the wall to regroup with the two triumphant Padawans that awaited them, not even bothering to question what had just occurred.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Huddled in the warm embrace of Qui-Gon Jinn's bantha wool cloak, Marie traced a rough map in the dirt with her fingers. She had only recently awaken from a healing trance and explained to her elder that she had seen what the other two Padawans were doing atop the wall, thus explaining how she knew about the tarp. Now, as she looked up, Garen spotted the same, steely determination in her eyes that he had seen so often in his best friend.

"Tomorrow marks the first day of the Slave Festival," she said quietly. "It's now or never gentlemen, it's as simple as that. Either we make our move tomorrow…or we don't make it at all."

  



	15. Chapter 15

Hey!  It's great to see a familiar face again!  Hi Cerasi!  And welcome aboard Athena Leigh Jinn!  It's always a pleasure to meet a lurker!  : )  Enjoy the chapter!  There are six more after this one I believe.  (It would have been up sooner, but ff.net was giving me problems.)

--Marie Kenobi__

Previously on "Patience is Key": Part one of Marie's plan is complete, but can Obi-Wan and Garen pull off part two?

_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 15 

"Remind me never to doubt her abilities as a seamstress again."

Garen flashed a grin at his friend.  After making sure her two fellow apprentices had memorized the map of the underground tunnels and the market place that she had sketched, Marie remained awake until the very early hours of the morning, working on their disguises in an attempt to finish them before the sun rose.  A few minor adjustments on Obi-Wan's clothes—and a few major ones on Garen's—had left them with garbs that looked like they had been tailored specifically for them, which, in a way, they had.

That morning, working off only a few hours of sleep, Garen and Obi-Wan had arisen quickly and dressed by the light of a glowrod.  With the help of Marie, whom had truly become a master of disguise, the two young men had been transformed into locals.  Any visible skin had been painted over—despite many arguments—with make-up and each apprentice had received a pair of purple lenses to hide their mahogany brown and blue-green eyes, respectfully.  Garen's hair had required only minimal tweaking to curl in a manner similar to that of the natives, as he had allowed it to grow out since his capture, and Obi-Wan had been given Marie's plain, gray cape to hide his much shorter hair with the hood.  To prevent questions, and to avoid attracting the attention of possible slave dealers, Garen would pose as lame and Obi-Wan as blind.  Marie was certain slave dealers would not pick them up—no matter how strikingly handsome they were—if they possessed such unfortunate disabilities.

While helping them get dressed, she had warned of a possible threat.

"Antiyo let it slip one day before Garen arrived that his fiancé had created a device that could detect the Force when a user called upon it.  I dismissed it in the beginning because I thought it was impossible, but after learning exactly who his fiancé was, I've decided it's a risk that shouldn't be taken it.  Avoid using the Force at all costs…"

Now, standing in a dark alleyway, Obi-Wan contemplated their next move.  "She said there was a public comm unit nearby, but she didn't specify where."

"I think I might know," Garen replied.  "Where'd she drop us?"

"Suzflow Street, I think."

"Parallel to Goney Street; I know where we are—and I know where we can find that elusive comm unit."

"Well then, Smarty-Pants," Obi-Wan teased, "lead on."

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

No one, not even the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, would have expected two homeless-looking teenage boys, one blind and the other lame, to be well trained, senior Jedi Padawans if they had played their roles well.  But Garen seemed to have a knack for unintentionally causing his blind companion to run into poles and people, and for being lame, he sure did have an energetic spring to his step.  Not to mention, after about the third pole (and undoubtedly the third bruise on his forehead), Obi-Wan raised his eyes from his feet to the scenery laid out before him.  Even if the apprentice pretended to see nothing, there was a sharpness to his eyes that no blind person possessed—unless of course you were a Jedi…

Although most didn't bother to give the duo a second glance, if one knew what they were looking for—two teenage boys about so tall and so big with a certain air around them—they could easily be spotted.

And it just so happened that _someone did_ know what they were looking for as two young men made their way carefully to a comm unit, giving the impression that they were in no hurry, but not quite convincing that _someone._

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The public comm system was an older model with a headpiece and no viewscreen.  When the two young men arrived at it, Garen snatched the headpiece from its hook and quickly adjusted the sound piece over his ear and the voice-pickup in front of his mouth.  Obi-Wan scooted closer and placed his ear against his friend's in an attempt to hear as the request for contact with the Jedi Temple was sent through and accepted.

"Jedi Temple, Coruscant.  You've reached Tower Four, may I help you?"

Confusion flickered briefly across Garen's face.  _"Who's in charge of communications in Tower Four?" he hissed urgently at Obi-Wan._

The older teen scrunched his nose up and with a short shake of his head, shrugged animatedly.

"Excuse me, hello?  Did you say something?  Bustch nata pawa tan jib?"

"No, I didn't say anything—not to you at least," he mumbled, earning an impatient glare from Obi-Wan, "and I speak Basic, thank you very much."

"Well then, explain your business!  Reports show you're calling from a planet outside the Republic.  Is there something I can help you with?"

"You don't have to be such a—"

"Such a what, kid?" the person on the other end asked in a dangerously low voice.

Dark brown eyes currently hidden under a veil of purple widened and Garen gulped when he realized whom he was speaking to.  "Master Gallia?"

"Yes-s-s," came the drawn out—and annoyed—response.

For a fleeting moment, Garen considered handing the head piece over to Obi-Wan, but one withering glare from the other young man told him he would have to sort through whatever consequences he had aroused for himself.

"This is Jedi Padawan Garen Muln, apprentice to Jedi Master Cle—"

_"Garen?"_

"Yes, Master Gallia?" he asked tentatively, almost expecting the master to suddenly appear and drag him back by his ear to his own master.

_"Garen?" she repeated.  __"Where are you?  No, never mind, I have it right here."  There was a pause, then, "Choet?  What in the galaxy are you doing there?"_

"Trying to avoid getting stuck in anymore aggressive negotiations with the natives that I can…it's not like that's unusual, though.  Why—"

"Garen!"

"Sorry, Obi."

"Obi?  As in Obi-Wan Kenobi?  As in Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"The one and only," Garen mumbled.

"_Force, Muln!  What exactly is going on down there?" Adi exclaimed, demanding an answer._

"I can't explain now, Master.  But it's urgent that a transport be sent here _as soon as possible._  I'm transferring the nitty-gritty details now; this is stuff you _really_ need to know before showing up."

Temporarily 'relinquishing' his blindness, Obi-Wan popped a data chip he had composed earlier with Marie's datapad into the comm unit's reader.  A moment later, the red light signaling the reader was busy flashed green and Obi-Wan retrieved the chip.

"Did you get that?" he asked into the voice-pickup, nearly yanking Garen's ear off as he transferred the headpiece to his own noggin—and effectively knocking his hood off for a brief moment before yanking it back on.

"Yeah.  It's good to hear that pretty little face of yours wasn't messed up, Padawan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan blushed, despite his best attempt not to.  Garen smiled and batted his eyelashes at the other young man.  It was well-known that Obi-Wan was one of the best looking Padawans at the Temple, and Adi Gallia never hesitated to remind him of it—from a strictly professional point-of-view, of course.

"Hmm, you boys have certainly gotten yourself into a stink, eh?  I'll pass this on to the Council and see if they can't send out Siri and Clee Rhara.  I wonder if perhaps I made a mistake by taking a leave from the Council for a few years, but Siri's training is at such a crucial point that I don't want anything to distract me from it."

"But what about you, Master?  Why don't you come?" Obi-Wan asked, confused.

"I've taken up responsibility for communications in Tower Four for Li Twaunee until she gets over the case of Luberian Flu we've had break out recently.  I can't come because I'm starting to come down with it myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Master," Obi-Wan replied, understanding now why Garen hadn't known who she was at first.  The master's voice was thick sounding, a sure sign of being congested.

"Save your pity, Obi," she responded with a sigh.  Suddenly she brightened.  "_You have to deal with it when you return."_

Obi-Wan groaned and briefly considered staying here—in the sewers—until he knew that the illness had passed.  He'd had the Luberian Flu more times than he cared to remember, and it _always _seemed to seek him out.

"Thank you, Master Gallia.  My master and cousin send their gratitude as well, I'm sure."

"My pleasure, Obi.  It's good to hear we haven't lost you four.  May the Force be with you."

"May the Force be with you, Master."

Obi-Wan removed the headpiece, careful not to upset his hood again, and hung it back on its hook.  He turned to Garen, feeling good about their chances when he was nearly overwhelmed by a warning that ripped through the Force at that moment.

Garen latched onto Obi-Wan's wrist and pulled him down, putting the other boy's hand on one of his boot buckles, as if there was something wrong with it.  Pretending he was helping his companion fix the stubborn buckle, he leaned towards Obi-Wan's ear.

"We're being watched.  I saw them staring at us just as you took the headset from me.  I think we might have blown our cover.  We need to get back to the tunnels and fast.  Keep your head down and your senses open for danger.  We'll just have to risk it.  I'll try not to make poles part of the trouble."

Obi-Wan nodded just enough for Garen to see.  The two of them stood together, turned, and headed back in the direction they'd come.

When the alleyway came into view, both young men increased their speed without the action being readily apparent.  They had passed by numerous slaves, slave buyers, hunters, and traders, and although they could feel the many pairs of eyes on them, none thought to stop the sad-looking pair.  Obi-Wan pitied the young man—not much younger than himself—that he had seen being fitted with a slave collar earlier.  It brought back unpleasant memories not confined to this particular mission alone.

_{Obi-Wan!}_

"What?"

"Duck!"

Obi-Wan ducked just as a heavy, spiked ball on a thick chain danced through the air where his head had been just nano-seconds ago.  Just as quickly, a purple lightsaber sliced through the air, eliciting a small cry of pain as two fingers dropped to the pavement.

With his attention focused again, Obi-Wan ignited his own weapon, twirled blindingly fast in two counter-clockwise spins and leapt into the air just in time to slice a curious, odd-shaped probe droid in half that had decided to impose on their business.  It crashed into the ground with a _PZZT!_, smoke weaving intricate swirls in the air.  Bending down, Obi-Wan pushed the smoking object over and read the words "Property of JZA" on its side.

Jenna Zan Arbor 

It must be the device Marie had warned them about earlier that could detect the Force.  Silently he hoped it was the only one.

Nearby, Garen rose high into the air with an impressive somersault and slashed a security camera into unrecognizable shards that had been watching them from the building on their right.  He shook his head slowly as he watched it fall to the ground—he and Obi-Wan had been careless not to see it until now.  They had been overly confident that they would succeed with their mission.

Qui-Gon will _not be pleased, he thought, swallowing hard._

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Garen's previous partner in engagement, whom was now missing two fingers, charged towards Obi-Wan just as another uninvited guest burst into the alleyway.  Obi-Wan twirled his lightsaber, advancing on his opponent in a game of chicken.  The enraged man dived out of the way just as Obi-Wan took to the air.  In a shot of desperation, the former lashed out with his broken chain, wrapping it around the ankle that came inches from his face. Obi-Wan came to an abrupt halt from being suspended in the air to sliding face down on rough, unforgiving pavement, his left ankle twisted unnaturally compared to his right.****

Meanwhile, Garen came out of his own short flight directly in front of their other uninvited guest.  He dropped to the ground and lashed out with one leg, sweeping his opponent's feet right out from underneath him.  Garen started up again, but was caught in the face by a steel-toed boot.  He went down and rolled to his side with a grunt, slightly dazed.

"You Jedi just don't get the message, do ya?"

With little Yodas in pink tutus still making trips around his head, Obi-Wan raised his eyes just enough to see Lipa standing at the mouth of the alley, his large form nearly blocking all of the light.  The two men who had snuck up on him and Garen dragged themselves wearily to the larger man's side, whom was beginning to chuckle softly.

Obi-Wan—somehow—managed to push himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his right leg, and spared a glance at his companion.  _{Garen?}_

"I'm alive, Obi."

"Good," Lipa laughed, "because I'd hate to have to _drag your sorry derrieres back to my Boss."_

"Yeah?  Well me too."

The three men unexpectantly dropped liked a set of boulders from the main Council room back on Coruscant.

Garen and Obi-Wan craned their necks back quickly to see Qui-Gon standing beside the sewer hole they had emerged from earlier, one hand clasped firmly around a blaster while the other helped Marie out, whom also held a blaster in her free hand.  The two muzzles were still venting thin, wispy trails of smoke.  Both Jedi tucked the weapons into their belts and rushed forward.

"I think they found us," Obi-Wan murmured sarcastically as his master gently lifted him into his arms and headed back toward the sewer.

Marie, rolling her eyes and supporting a still-shaky Garen, brought up the rear.


	16. Chapter 16

_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

  


Enjoy!

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Chapter 16 

"Next time, Padawan, try to land on your feet and not your face."

Obi-Wan allowed a small, amused grin to touch his lips. "I'll do my best, Master. But not even that would have helped this time."

"No, I suppose not," Qui-Gon mused quietly, shifting his attention from his apprentice's angelic face to his swollen and discolored ankle.

"Master Jinn, here. Set him down and take a break."

Marie lifted Garen's arm off her shoulders and patted a small ledge formed from years of erosion. It was just large enough for two people to sit on.

The four Jedi had been scurrying through the labyrinth of sewer tunnels—and sometimes knee-deep, murky brown water—for close to four hours now. Garen and Obi-Wan had been engaged in a scuffle earlier and emerged a little worse for the wear. Garen, whom was sitting on the ledge and being tended to by Marie, had come out of the struggle with a bruised and bloodied lip, swollen eye—of which the skin around it was now the same color purple as the lenses he still wore from the market place—and a large knot on his forehead from where he had collided with a steel-toed boot. Amazingly, the kick had come with so much power behind it that Garen had sustained a slight concussion. It was enough in Marie's opinion, however, to convince her that he needed support.

Obi-Wan on the other hand—the reigning champ for holding the most unscheduled visits to the Temple's healer ward—had, once again, lured most of the fight's damage to himself. Definitely the worst injury from the entire brawl, his broken left ankle had grown two-times its normal size and had forced his master and cousin to pull his boot off immediately. Qui-Gon had worried that if they stayed near the fight scene for too long, they may get caught, so it was only now that they were able to rest and take care of the other injuries.

Which, of course, included resetting the bone, and now that Qui-Gon was preparing to do so, Obi-Wan fervently wished he could put it off a little longer. The Jedi Master looked up sympathetically into his apprentice's stormy eyes as Marie finished with Garen's wounds and moved to take care of the other young man's. After having landed almost completely on his face, it made sense that Obi-Wan had come out of it with numerous cuts and abrasions on his handsome visage and Marie set to work cleaning them. The youngest apprentice applied antiseptic to the other Padawan's wounds as gently as possible, but still managed to elicit a few sharp intakes of air. Obi-Wan's fall had scraped the top layer of skin off his right cheek, leaving ugly red lines of dried blood. He had also managed to attain a bloodied nose, scraped elbow, and—probably second in pain only to his ankle—asphalt burn.

"Obi-Wan?"

The Padawan's eyes roamed from his cousin's small hands as she prepared one of their last bacta pads for the burns on his stomach, to his master's larger ones, which sat motionless in the air near his ankle. "On three?" he asked.

Qui-Gon nodded. "One…two…"

Obi-Wan braced himself immediately and unconsciously flinched as the word _'two' _left his master's mouth—but nothing happened. "Hey," he exclaimed, "since when did you stop trying to fool me into thinking you were going to do it on three and not two?"

"Since you figured it out. Oh, and Padawan mine?"

"Yes, Master?"

"Three!"

"Huh? Ah! Son of a _SITH!"_

Qui-Gon sent soothing waves of calm to his silently cursing apprentice as he took the makeshift splint from Marie, who along with Garen, were close to hysterical in their laughter.

Obi-Wan cracked open one eye previously squeezed shut and sent his two friends a look of pure murder.

"Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master said calmly, having clearly seen the look. "A Jedi knows not revenge. And Garen, Marie—a Jedi does not bask in the pain of others."

Obedient Padawans to the end, the three of them nodded, although Obi-Wan's came out more as a bobbing action. Qui-Gon caught the young man as he slumped forward into his waiting arms, oblivious to the rest of the world in his Force-induced sleep.

"We should be on the move again, Marie," he said quietly, arranging the young man in his arms so he would be comfortable. "Where to now?"

Blue-green eyes roamed the tunnels around them as the light from the Jedi's glowrod slowly became fainter. "This way…I think."

Hefting Garen's arm back over her shoulders, Marie turned right down a narrow tunnel where the stale air became staler.

"What did you do to those guys anyway?" Garen asked suddenly.

Marie handed him the glowrod just as it flickered on and off, finally stopping on the latter. Garen shook it once, causing it to glow faintly again. Marie ignited her lightsaber to shed blue-green light on the cloudy water they waded through.

"We didn't kill them of course, if that's what you're wondering," she said matter-of-factly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Qui-Gon was close behind and not struggling with Obi-Wan's limp form. Turning down another tunnel, this one slightly wider, she patted the blaster tucked into her belt before putting her arm back around Garen's waist.

"Stun mode. Set at high power. They won't be able to tell the difference between a Jedi and a Jawa for quite a while."

He flashed her a mischievous grin.

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"How long to Choet?" Siri Tachi asked, turning so she could see Jedi Master Clee Rhara at the pilot's station of the small, plain ship on loan to the Jedi.

"Four days max, but two if we really push it."

"Well then," the Padawan replied, "let's get this bucket of bolts into the air. If the information they sent us is true, and I'm sure it is considering the source, then we have four Jedi stuck in a hostile situation with no chance of escape."

Clee Rhara smiled as she engaged the thrusters and guided the ship out of Coruscant's atmosphere. "Copy that, Padawan. Glad to know you're here to fill me in on these things."

Siri blushed. "Always a pleasure to be of help, Master Rhara."

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You have a one of a kind taste for hideouts, Marie Kenobi."

"Charming 'til the last, eh Garen? Will this do, Master Jinn?"

Qui-Gon glanced about the dark, dusty, and _dirty _room. Marie had only recently finished giving them her 'grand tour' of the city's underground tunnel system and now they found themselves in an old, abandoned one room cottage. On the very outskirts of the city, it would give them a place to rest for awhile. At least until Antiyo thought to retrieve his men from the tunnels and send them out this way, that was. Qui-Gon noted with a touch of satisfaction and relief that there was even a small sleep couch. Obi-Wan, still wrapped in a blanket of blissful sleep, was set down gently on the rickety bed and covered by his cousin's gray cape.

In the small section designated as the kitchen by an old, broken down cooler and dirty pots and pans, Garen retrieved a bucket and started for the door to fetch water when a small, callused hand latched onto him.

"What?" he asked.

Marie scrutinized his handsome face hidden under ugly, black and blue bruises before she shook her head and pulled a half-full canteen from her ever-present bag. "I know the sun's almost down, Garen, but we have to wait until it's completely dark to go outside. Even then we should be wary."

"And supper?"

She frowned slightly. "I think I can throw something together with those food capsules you have hanging on your belt."

Twisting his face into a grimace, Garen handed over the small capsules. He was so tired of 'artificial' food. They had been on the run for almost four days now and it had been just as long since he'd had _edible_ food. Marie had, of course, thought about food while packing her bag for the mission, but never knowing when she might need it meant packing foods that would not go bad—and that meant ration bars. The Jedi had already eaten over half of the supply she had brought, and the young woman thought it best if they tried to conserve them for emergencies.

Within five minutes the water and powdery substance from the capsules had sufficiently mixed, although it was more of a thick paste than slippery goo because Marie had only used half of the remaining water. The rest she distributed between Garen, Qui-Gon, and herself. Leaving a few sips for Obi-Wan, Marie capped the canteen and set it down, then turned to her ice-cold paste. One look at Garen's green face and she knew she was in for a treat. As much as she wanted to toss it aside, she knew she could not. The pasty gruel—which reminded her very much of Yoda's favorite snack—was filled to the top with nutrients they would surely need to retain energy during the inevitably trying days ahead. The substance in food capsules was meant to sustain the one who used it and nothing more; and as Marie lifted the bowl to her lips, she couldn't resist the urge to use the Force to make it look—and taste—like a bowl of steamy warm gundark stew.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Obi-Wan did not wake until early the next morning. Garen, whom had gone out during the night to search for water and edible food, was the first to notice him. Qui-Gon and Marie awoke soon after. The former stood to his full, imposing height and stretched, his fingertips just scratching the ceiling of the small, one roomed cottage.

Groaning, he placed a hand on his back and sat down at the edge of the bed. "I'm getting too old to do this sort of thing," he grumbled, referring to the long, uncomfortable night he'd had trying to sleep on the old, wooden floor.

"You're not too old, Master," Obi-Wan said quickly and quietly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smiled. "You're just out of shape."

"And I suppose you could have slept on that cold, unforgiving floor and thus given up your warm, soft bed?"

Obi-Wan gave his master an expression of mock hurt. "Now why in the galaxy would you want your poor, injured, helpless Padawan to do that?"

Garen and Marie both rolled their eyes. While Qui-Gon began to inspect his apprentice's splinted ankle, muttering something along the lines of, "In my days, we didn't have…", the other two teenagers grabbed a bowl of the left over paste and unmercifully began shoveling it down their victim's throat.


	17. Chapter 17

Athena Leigh—No sympathy for Obi-Wan? None at all? Aw well, your're right, he doesn't deserve it. ^_~ As far as the 'who' vs. 'whom' thing goes, I stuck with whatever my 'master' at the Force.net told me was OK, but as I'm rereading the chapters myself (looking for errors before I post), I'll check for that. And happy belated birthday! I hope it was a good one!

  


Cerasi5—You're forgiven! You've been such a great reviewer, I figured you just missed the chapter or something. ^_^ Yes, Yoda ina pink tutu is_ definitely_ a scary thought. *Shudders* ^_~ And don't worry, I'm not done with Obi yet. Hehe....

  


There's a little bit of humor in this chapter, as well as some building up for things to come in future chapters, so be patient with me. ^_^ We'll start wrapping this story up _real _soon.

  


_--Marie K._

_  
See Chapter One for disclaimer_

  


Enjoy!

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Chapter 17 

"Watch yourself, Kenobi!"

Marie nodded and swiped a quick glance over her shoulder to see a disgruntled man pointing a blaster at her dark, fleeing form. Beside him stood a woman, face marked with creases from her pillow and nightgown wrinkled, screaming for all she was worth and tugging on her husband's arm, making his shots go astray and hitting everything but what they were supposed to.

Garen let out a whoop of joy and jerked the controls of his 'borrowed' speeder bike to the right. He and Marie traded high five's, both talking animatedly.

"Oh boy, if the Council hears about this we're dead!"

"Yeah, but you have to admit it was fun!"

"For you maybe!"

"Can I help it if the old fart just happened to come out at that moment?"

"_You _were supposed to be watching while I got the shed open."

"True, true…but you have to admit—those flowing layers of fat were sexy!"

"Eww, Garen!"

Laughter rang through the still air of predawn.

"How'd you know that guy had so many bikes we could choose from to steal?"

Marie grinned faintly and peeked at her companion through the corner of one blue-green eye. She spoke with the Choetian accent she'd used during the time she was Ceal Verune.

"I'm a politician! What did you expect from me anyhow? Honesty? Good morals? Pshaw! And besides, from a certain point of view we didn't _technically _steal them. They were already stolen!"

With a wink, Marie gunned the engines of her bike and headed off in the direction of the rising sun, her deep brown hair and rough, gray cape billowing out behind. Garen, with his thick, black hair ruffled by the wind, was not far behind.

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When the two impish Padawans got close enough to see the one-roomed cottage they had been hiding in for the past two days, they immediately swung their bikes around and landed in the woods nearby.

Eyes wide and filled with worry, the two clasped hands and crept forward to peer between two trees that had grown together.

Corrupt security officers under the command of Antiyo Ganfor surrounded the cottage on all sides. As units they quickly nailed thick boards over the few windows and doors that were not already covered, blocking off all forms of escape. With flared nostrils and a clenched jaw, Garen pulled Marie back to the bikes.

Not long after the two Padawans took to the air, savage, unforgiving flames engulfed the tiny cottage.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Jedi Master Clee Rhara found her usually inexhaustible wealth of patience being exhausted, she decided enough was enough. They _would_ get to Choet within the next day, even if she had to flap her arms the entire way to do so.

"Siri, come," the woman replied calmly, walking towards the other side of the hangar that they were in.

Padawan Siri looked up from the information Padawans Obi-Wan Kenobi and Garen Muln had sent. Confusion etched her brow as she stood and followed the Jedi Master in charge of this rescue mission to a ship.

But not _their_ ship.

_Their _ship was currently being worked on, because the hyperdrive had failed a day and a half into the journey. The mechanic had started to suggest that perhaps they had pushed the device a little too hard, and _that_ was why it had broken down, but one withering glance from Master Rhara had sent him scurrying back to his job, explanations and curiosity temporarily—or perhaps permanently—forgotten.

Running now to catch up with her companion whom was quickly strolling up the boarding ramp of the unknown ship, Siri made a mental note to _never _upset or delay a master on a mission to rescue his or her—or its—Padawan learner.

She barely had a chance to throw herself into a seat and yank the harness over her head before the ship's engines trembled to life and thrust them back into space.

"Master—" she started, but was cut off.

"Siri, I realize I may seem a little more—rash—than you're master at the moment, but unlike me, her Padawan is not in danger. Mine is. The repairs to the ship's hyperdrive would have taken a day or two to complete and that was a day longer than I would have preferred to wait. So please excuse my actions for the time being. When this pilot offered to take us—and get us—to Choet within a day's time…I found I could not pass up such an offer. I—"

Clee stopped at the enthusiastic bobbing of the young Jedi's head and smiled. "Thank you for understanding," she said, then noticed the girl's eyes were dancing with curiosity. "Yes?"

"Are you sure? I mean, when you said Master Adi's Padawan—me—was not in danger. You looked like you could have strangled that mechanic back there."

The Jedi Master sat up straighter and gave an indignant snort. One side of her mouth twitched, curling slightly into a sly smile.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Garen and Marie disappeared into the lush, green forest of Jubian trees, giving the former a completely different feeling for them. The first time he had seen the large trees had been through the broken viewport of a crashing ship. Now he saw them clearly and slowly came to understand their beauty, from the gently swaying branches, heavily laden with leaves, to the enormous roots that penetrated the rich, brown soil. As the two traveled deeper into the woods in search of a cave the older apprentice had found during one of his midnight excursions, a flock of pearly white Aneeans, arranged in a soft arc formation, flew quickly from the trees and past the two who trespassed into their forest.

Finally, just meters away from the cave entrance, the Jedi Padawans spotted two figures, one leaning heavily on the other, and set their bikes down onto the fertile forest floor. Both rushed up to the figures.

"Obi-Wan! Master Jinn!"

Blue-green and midnight blue eyes, respectively, turned to see Garen running towards them, waving his hands and smiling in relief. Marie followed closely at his heels.

Not the slightest bit winded, they skidded to a halt. Garen took Obi-Wan's free arm and swung it over his shoulder. Firmly supported between his master and fellow Padawan, Obi-Wan slumped slightly, exhausted by all the troubles his broken ankle was giving him.

Marie took possession of her bag again, making a mental note to thank Qui-Gon later for saving it for her. If he hadn't thought to bring it with them when they escaped the cottage, the four Jedi would be _completely _stranded on this Force-forsaken planet with absolutely no food or water except for what they could scrounge together.

"They set the cottage on fire," she said, securing her bag to the back of one of the speeders as Qui-Gon lifted his apprentice onto the other, then gracefully climbed on himself. Obi-Wan placed his arms around the older man's chest.

"What tipped you off?"

Qui-Gon started the engine. He and his apprentice drifted lazily into the air as Garen leapt onto the other speeder, Marie quickly joining him before she locked her own arms firmly around his waist.

With both bikes in the air now, the Jedi sped away from the cave, leaving the burning cottage far behind.

"It started as a small pulsing sensation in the Force," Qui-Gon yelled over the roar of the wind. "I looked out one of the windows and saw dust rising in the distance. I decided we wouldn't be home when our friends came to visit."

The four Jedi were quiet as they left the city behind and headed further into the country. Labeled dirt roads gave way to unidentifiable, overgrown paths and trails, and finally turned into nothing but fields, fertile and useful during some point of their existence but forgotten during the present time when all food was either imported or grown in backyard gardens.

During her time on Choet, Marie had heard of mysterious groups that lived in the mountains they were now headed to. Legend said the groups were made up of women, some widowed and others simply left utterly alone in the vast galaxy when fathers, sons, brothers, or husbands were taken as slaves. According to the legend, they would rise up once every 500 years and invade the city in an attempt to run out the slave dealers. Every time, however, they would surrender, for the people they fought against were not soldiers, but rather those in their family who had been thrown into the dreadful life of slavery.

The planet's historians—predominantly male and nearly all former slaves unless they had been born into politically rich families—mocked the women's attempts to change what had taken place since the beginning of Choet so many centuries ago. They insisted that if it weren't for the tradition of taking young men and boys as slaves, there would be absolutely no way to train the lower class to be strong, hardworking adults. There were no schools on Choet. Women were expected to be good, little housewives and nothing more. Only a select few—those whose surname could be traced to important, rich politicians of the past—were ever taught the finer points of literature, math, history, science, and—above all—politics. Usually by the time the girls became adults, they held such contempt for slaves and the mysterious "Mountain Women" that they had no care to change the centuries-old methods.

It was a barbaric way of living, Marie knew. She had spent over a year on this disgusting planet, disguised as one of the select few. Ceal Verune had been the adopted daughter of the deceased, yet still influential couple, the Aktins. Thinking back over it now, she shuddered. Unconsciously her thoughts strayed to the legendary "Mountain Women" and it occurred to her that what they would fight for soon, seeing as it was the 500th year since the last battle, was a very worthy cause.

But was it worthy enough for the help of a Jedi?

Or perhaps that of an off-world stranger?

Across the short distance that spanned between the two speeder bikes, Obi-Wan raised his cheek from his master's broad back and stared in concern at his cousin, whose chin rested on Garen's left shoulder blade. Her blue-green eyes stared dully into the distance, taking in everything and nothing all at once as they slowly became more and more unfocused and glazed.


	18. Chapter 18

My deepest apologies,** Athena** and** Cerasi**! Sorry for disappearing again there, but I just got back from vacation pretty recently and I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things. Not to mention I have two HUGE projects due for AP Literature as soon as school starts AND volleyball season starts next Monday. *Pants* But anyway, here's chapter 18 and I'll see about having 19 up by Friday.

  


**Athena—**Impish padawans indeed! It seems Obi-Wan is rubing off on his friend and cousin! ^_~ Sorry for scaring you, but that's just mean 'ol Antiyo's way of doing things. Grrr to him!

  


**Cerasi**—Don't worry about the whole vacation thing. TRUST me, I understand. ^_^'' Thanks for all the wonderful praise! You KNOW I have to torture Obi throughout the entire story. What kind of devout fanfic writer would I be if I didn't?? And the idea of a sequel has occurred to me, but I don't see it happening anytime soon. :-( Sorry!

  


Enjoy!

**  
**_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

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Chapter 18 

"Master Jinn! _Where are you?_"

Marie's keen eyes swept the air around her, trying to see over the tall stacks of wild corn that obscured her vision. The speeder bike she and Garen had been using ran out of fuel about an hour ago. After abandoning it, the two were forced to walk the remaining distance to the mountains, which turned out to be much harder than they'd previously expected—walking through the stalks that would have dwarfed even Qui-Gon's massive size was a long, arduous task. Finally, Garen's restlessness had taken over and he had given up trying to be respectful to the land around him and pulled out his weapon.

The two Padawans made quick progress after that.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had long since passed them and disappeared from view. Now that Garen and Marie had finally arrived in the mountains, however, with no sign of their companions, worry began to set it.

"Qui-Gon!" Garen yelled into the cool air of rapidly approaching night. He turned to the young girl beside him, who was stuffing ears of corn into her tunic. "Can you feel Obi-Wan?" he asked.

She shook her head and turned to search the skies again, pushing through the last few feet of stalks as she did so.

"He secured his shields rather firmly about half an hour ago, but not before I detected a little pain. It's probably just his ankle again," she said quietly, finally emerging from the cornfield. Garen pushed past her and began to scale a steep hill beside one of the mountains, lightsaber still in hand to thwart any danger from getting to his companion.

"Probably," was his response to her assumption; he tried to sound convinced for both of them, but failed miserably. Finally, after realizing he did not have the patience to simply sit on the ground and pluck weeds, he stood and began to pace. _Where were they?_

Suddenly, from around the corner of one of the craggy mountains, Qui-Gon emerged, striding towards them with a concerned yet relieved smile.

Both Padawans hurried over.

"We thought something happened to you," the Jedi Master said, leading them back in the direction he had come from.

"Same here," Garen replied solemnly.

The three Jedi climbed one steep path after another through thick vegetation, most of which had some sort of spiny thorns or leaves on them and only their tall boots kept them from repeatedly being stuck. When Qui-Gon pointed to a well-trodden path, most likely used by some type of animal, Marie sighed a breath of relief, glad that all of their hard trekking seemed to finally have come to an end.

At the top of this trail, a beautiful valley lay spread out before them. It was surrounded by three other large mountains, effectively boxing it in, keeping it hidden and well protected from the strong winds that were so common this high up. Thick, knee-high meadow grass, slightly yellowed from an apparent lack of rain in the mountains, blanketed the valley in a beautiful soft carpet. Small purple, pink and blue flowers dotted the landscape where they managed to grow tall enough to reach above the grass, and waved gently back and forth in the appearance of a light, whispering wind. Trees with sloping branches formed canopies and provided shade to wandering creatures—such as the small family of Rin, a medium-sized hooved animal, that rested nearby in the grass. The trees sat in a cluster at the south side of the valley, forming a miniature forest.

Towards the west side of the valley, resting beside a natural spring, Obi-Wan sat sideways on the remaining speeder bike. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Qui-Gon had not returned alone, but one thing still bothered him.

Waiting until his master and Garen were a short distance away, attempting to build a temporary shelter beneath the protection of the trees, Obi-Wan turned serious eyes to his cousin, whom was preoccupied with rummaging through the contents of her bag that still sat by the bike. Half a dozen ears of corn rested by her feet. "Don't," Obi-Wan said simply.

"What?" she asked absent-mindedly, turning her ear towards him.

"Just don't."

Marie looked up this time, an amused yet confused grin on her face. "How can I not say or do what you don't want me to if I have no Sithly idea what you're talking about?"

"Choet isn't a part of the Republic," he began softly, gradually getting louder as he seemed to become more sure that what he was about to say was right. "Even if it was, the invasion by the Mountain Women is none of your concern. It's a fight that you as a person—especially as a Jedi—have no place in. If they wanted Jedi assistance, they would have requested it. I know what you're going through, and I know it's all really a bad idea to get involved…"

Marie's eyes widened, her jaw falling slightly ajar as her face took on an unbelieving look. _"You were intruding on my thoughts?" _she hissed, her voice not much more than a whisper. She suddenly felt very exposed and betrayed.

Obi-Wan's eyes showed only concern. "I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did—and I wasn't _technically_ spying on you. Your thoughts just sort of—bled into my own."

"How dare you!" she spat, wondering what else he had picked up on. She knew for a fact that Obi-Wan could easily penetrate her shields if she did not reinforce them from time to time, but for her thoughts to just simply bleed into his—well, it was preposterous!

"Well if you'd learn to stop daydreaming, you wouldn't broadcast your thoughts!" she vaguely heard him exclaim.

Denial crept onto her face. "I _do not_ daydream, Obi-Wan Kenobi!"

Obi-Wan saw his childhood friend turn in their direction, a look of confusion gracing his sweaty features. The oldest apprentice smirked when he turned back to his cousin. "Oh yeah? So what would you call it all those times I've seen you staring at Garen while he's not looking?"

He said it loud. So loud in fact, that their rescuers in space could have very well heard them.

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"We're coming out of hyperspace in three, two, _one_!"

The battered Corellian ship dropped back into normal space just beyond the reaches of the Togorian warship's sensors.

"There it is," Siri breathed, noting the blurry lines of the ship. Although the ship they rode in had obviously seen better days, its sleek lines were still much more attractive than the other ship's. Then again, anything could be considered prettier looking than the Togorian warship.

Clee Rhara leaned over the pilot's shoulder and pointed to the ship. "We need to disable it long enough to get down to the planet and back up," she told him, brushing a strand of bright orange hair behind one ear.

The pilot nodded. "I've located all of their mines on this side of the planet," he murmured. "If I can just lure them into their own trap…"

He trailed off and reached above his head to adjust a few controls. "Hold on ladies, we'll be planet bound before you can rip off a Hutt crime lord."

Clee and Siri traded glances with eyebrows clearly raised before the pilot added amused, "Figuratively speaking, of course."

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_There is no emotion; there is peace. There is _no_ emotion; there _is_ peace. There is _noemotion_;_ _there _is peace—_Oh Sith, who cares?_

Marie's face flushed bright red as she stood up, pulling away from the bag by her feet and staring into the blank face of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The face that held the eyes that—surely—were laughing at her. Where a bystander would have seen nothing but a mouth set in a firm, straight line, she saw the smugness that came from knowing one had just backed their opponent into a corner they had no chance of getting out of.

Marie, however, would not play her cousin's childish game.

Obi-Wan saw her straighten her shoulders in an attempt to make herself bigger, although with her standing and the young man still sitting on the speeder bike she was already considerably taller. To prove she had better things to do than argue, Marie bent down to retrieve her gray cloak, exclaiming a "humph!" as she did, and turned to walk away and settle someplace far away from her incorrigible cousin. Before leaving, she turned to him and with a fierce scowl declared, "Consider yourself fortunate that we are bound by more than the Code."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows slowly. "Oh yeah?" he retorted. "What if I told you I was repulsed by the fact that we share the same family name and blood? Then what would you say?"

Hurt flitted across Marie's face before being replaced by steely determination. "I would say," she started slowly, letting each word sink in, "that I will hold you to your words—and I will leave you be."

Two pairs of blue-green eyes locked and Obi-Wan saw more than hurt dim the intense eyes of the person he was—usually—proud to have a blood bond with. Surprisingly, Marie broke the contact first and looked away to her hands where they fidgeted with the hood of her dirty cape.

Obi-Wan sighed.

"I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did when I was young and still easily impressionable," he repeated carefully.

Not carefully enough, however, as _that_ set the fireworks off again.

"Young? _Easily impressionable?_"

It was at this particular moment that Garen, still standing a few meters away with Qui-Gon, groaned and rolled his eyes.

Here we go again, he thought, stepping towards them. A large hand on his shoulder made him pause.

Not even bothering to hide it, Garen winced. Qui-Gon moved swiftly past him and towards the two bickering teenagers.

If they didn't kill themselves now, Qui-Gon would make them regret that they hadn't done so before the venerable Jedi Master had gotten a hold of them.

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Antiyo Ganfor, a.k.a. the Prince of Corruption, banged one pale, unblemished hand against the tabletop.

The Jedi had escaped. _Again…_

How was he supposed to wreak revenge if they kept outsmarting him? And that was one thing Antiyo did not like—to be outsmarted.

He had to think of something else, something to beat them at their own game. He had to prey upon their ultimate weakness. But did Jedi have weaknesses? It was a question he did not have an answer to at the moment and that in itself made him very annoyed.

A sudden knock at the door of his private quarters drew his attention. "Enter!" he rasped out loudly.

One tall, lanky guard—Tunny, whom had formerly worked for Ceal Verune—entered the room with all the hesitancy one should have for being alone in the same room with the deranged medic.

"Boss—er, Sir, the troops scouting the fifth sector of the mountain range just reported in. They said they found an abandoned speeder bike, one previously reported stolen, hidden at the beginning of a large cornfield. They're currently working on following a path created by—supposedly—two humans on foot."

Antiyo smiled devilishly, revealing straight, bright white teeth. He turned to the young guard and asked almost casually, "Tell me, Officer Tunny, what does the word Jedi mean to you?"

Tunny scrunched his brow and remembered at the very last moment not to shrug. "Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, although they have no control on planets that are not part of the Republic. They protect the weak and innocent, which makes them weak as well."

The hatred towards Jedi bred into all Choetians began to bubble towards the surface as Tunny's young face took on a more aggressive look.

"There would be no weaklings or innocents if they would mind their own business, which would be better for the entire galaxy. They make people soft and that is why we must destroy them."

A delighted grin covered Antiyo's face as he dismissed Tunny with a false "Thank you" and a wave of his hand.

Tunny, despite his young age, had seen what Antiyo—whose great scheming mind was one of the best—had not. Such a talent could not be allowed to flourish out of fear that one day he may turn against his current boss. Antiyo would squash the young man's gift soon enough—but first he needed to complete his original mission, and Tunny's hate for the Jedi, especially the girl, would come in handy.

With a smile the medic settled into his large plush chair and smiled. He now knew the Jedi's ultimate weakness.


	19. Chapter 19

**Athena**—Don't worry, Qui-Gon's not too bad, but it's probably a good thing they're out on a dangerous mission and not safely in the Temple.  Who KNOWS what he'd make them do then.  *Shudders*

**Cerasi**—Glad you enjoyed that chapter.  If I ever decide to do a sequel, I'll be sure to post it under my biography so you can find out about it, OK?

Thanks for the encouragement!  Now, on to Chapter 19!

(Wow!  Only two more chapters and an epilogue left!  We're finally wrapping this thing up!)  
--MK

_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

Enjoy!

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Chapter 19 

"Peace be with you, oh friend 'o mine.  May your days be many and fulfilling.  Prosper through your actions, learn from your mistakes, and remember humility and respect, for one day they will save you.  Admit there are some wiser than you, know your true friends, and never become the shadow of anyone.  Meet your adversary with the calm of an old friend.  Push yourself to your limit and go one step further, but know when you can take and do no more.  Should you ever need me, I will be here.  Our bond remains strong through Code, honor, and blood.  Our blood links us as one and as one we are linked by blood.

"Force be with you, oh friend 'o mine.  May your days shine and show great accomplishments of the greater good.  Apart we are strong.  Together we are stronger.  I make my vow to you now and for eternity.  Should we someday be forced to relinquish our honorable titles as Jedi, blood will still keep us bound."

Qui-Gon watched the exchange between the two Jedi Padawans silently.  Obi-Wan and Marie knelt on the soft ground (with the former in a slightly odd position because of his ankle) and chanted in secretive whispers, their words gently being stolen away from prying ears by the light wind that constantly filled the valley.  Facing each other with eyes closed and faces upturned towards the heavens, they moved their already close palms closer until just the slightest distance—the width of a fine, perfect strand of golden hair from an angel of Iego perhaps—separated them.  If the two palms touched, it would destroy one of the greatest meanings of the ritual being performed.  As long as the two remained separate, it meant they did not need to actually touch or be in the other's presence to feel and understand the other.

Marie and Obi-Wan, at the request/demand of Qui-Gon, were performing an ancient Jedi bond ritual.  It was not often that this particular ritual was done, as it was very rare that two blood relatives—near enough to one another's age to work together—were actually at the Temple at the same time.  This ritual helped to reinforce the bond already intact between two blood relatives—which, Qui-Gon decided, was _exactly _what those two needed.  The Jedi Master felt that the sooner it was carried through, the better.  Something ominous floated in the near future, and although he had never been known for his ability to read from the Unifying Force, he did not overlook anything that might hint to impending danger.

With the last line said, both recipients of the ancient communion rose slowly—Obi-Wan slower and less graceful than usual.  Marie, however, slowed her ascent so their palms, trembling slightly from Force energy being traded back and forth, could stay close.  Sparks from the Force energy, not at all painful, leapt almost playfully between the two.  Quietly, slowly, the palms were pulled away and the hands dropped.  Obi-Wan opened his eyes to reveal those blue-green orbs were alive with the power of the Light Side of the Force.  Marie's could have been mirror images of her cousin's.

Smiling faintly, with Obi-Wan using Marie as a crutch, they returned to the fire built by their comrades at the edge of the small thicket of trees and sat down.  Obi-Wan looked to his master, an almost sheepish look marring his handsome features.  The Jedi Master gave a slight nod—barely perceptible, but enough for the apprentice who so deeply craved his master's approval to see it and allow himself to relax.  He had done what his master had requested of him and he had come out of it better than he had gone in.

Pleased for the moment, he did not notice the darkness beginning to bud and swell in the Force.

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Antiyo stared out lovingly through the paristeel window of his personal lab at the large array of foot soldiers gathering just beyond the limits of the city.  His grandfather had made an excellent choice when he'd decided to bequeath the power to control the planet's defenses to his only son and his charming family: a beautiful wife, one equally beautiful daughter, and four handsome boys.  It had been a shame that only Antiyo, the youngest of the five, had seen what great things could be done with such power.  It was also a shame that he'd been forced to kill them all, including Grandfather, the late King.  All except dear sister, who had fled that was.  His uncle would also be dead now were it not for the fact he was just as corrupt as his nephew and a commanding officer of Choet's soldiers.

Yes, Antiyo thought with a smile, he would keep Uncle Lipa around for a little while longer, no matter how dense the man really was.

Deep purple eyes, nearly black even in the brightest of light, turned to look at the majestic mountains where his prey unknowingly awaited their deaths.  He scowled darkly when a child screamed somewhere nearby.  It was a scream of happiness, probably better described as a squeal, but the very nature of its origin reminded him of what had taken place less that a week ago.  Had his sister been smart and minded her own business, staying in politics instead of running off with that so called _man—an avid Jedi sympathizer—he would not have been forced to sell his brother-in-law, Sei Mutun, into slavery.  And thus the whole back stabbing incidents that had arrived when the female Jedi bought him would never have taken place.  It was such a pity young Yuko had been thrown into the whole mess as well.  He'd held plenty of untapped potential, especially considering he had been Force sensitive.  Had Antiyo not been able to use him, surely Jenna could have…_

Remembering why he was here in the first place, Antiyo turned to look at the small, silent figure that had been watching him so intently for the past few minutes.  The child was smaller than other boys his age were; but then again, his father had never been big either.  At least not vertically; he had been fairly big horizontally.  Kneeling, Antiyo reached out for the boy and smiled as he started towards him.  Had the circumstances been different, the child would never have even looked at him.

With light purple eyes and a mop of thick, slightly curly black hair, the child was everything he was supposed to be…the perfect clone.  Of course, this mission wasn't the exact reason he had been created for, but the child would have to make his debut now.  He would be perfect for the task ahead.

Smiling and patting the boy on the head with such awkwardness that one might think he'd never dreamed of doing such a thing—which he hadn't—Antiyo pushed him towards a soldier waiting by the door.  Spinning slowly on one heel, he turned to take in the setting sun and the mountains again.  With hands clasped behind his back, a triumphant grin graced his thin, pink lips.  This child would be the downfall of the four Jedi who had become nothing more than a hoard of bugs to him that required extermination.  _This boy_ would tug on the heartstrings of the four overly compassionate, _foolish Jedi and distract them just long enough to allow his men to take their places around the perimeter of the valley they had been discovered in.  And then the ambush would come and the two Jedi who had taken his lover's life, the scheming female, and her little friend would all be dead._

Oh yes, Antiyo thought smugly, Yuko will do his job well…

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_{Master, something is not right here…}_

To anyone who did not know Obi-Wan, they would have thought the young man, sitting quietly near the dying fire, eyes closed with his hands folded in his lap and one leg in while the other remained stretched out, was sleeping peacefully—and supposedly comfortably.  But a closer look would reveal characteristics of someone in a state of calm alertness.

Ever since his companions had drifted into sleep nearly two hours ago, he had found himself locked in deep meditation, contemplating how it was that his cousin—another Kenobi—had come to question her loyalty to the Jedi Order and wonder if, perhaps, something else called to them both in life, something more than just what they could give as Jedi.  Although he did not, Marie sympathized with the Mountain Women and their cause.  True, she had been here longer and thus seen more, but Obi-Wan still did not see where his cousin's actions—or rather thoughts of actions—were justified.

Although he ruefully had to admit to himself that she had not understood why he had left the Order for the short time that he did.

The older apprentice had been grateful when his master had stepped in to stop them from saying anything else they might regret, and glad that Marie had voluntarily reconfirmed her vows to the Jedi Order before they had reaffirmed their blood bond to one another.

But now—now that he could think clearly again, he immediately recognized that something was wrong.  Through the reinforced training bond he shared with his master, Obi-Wan sent out his message of concern.

Qui-Gon stirred in his calm sleep, accidentally bumping into Marie, whom lay beside him, entangled in the folds of her cloak seeking protection against the cold night so common on Choet.  Her blue-green eyes opened quickly, instantly becoming alert when she remembered their circumstances, but she did not move, instead choosing to watch the slow rise and fall of Garen's chest.  Something unknown seemed to draw her eyes to him.  She stifled a laugh when she saw a thin trail of drool dribbling down his chin.

Vibrations in the Force indicating a conversation caused her to close her eyes and roll over to face Qui-Gon, feigning sleep.  Opening herself ever so slightly to the Force, she attempted to gauge her cousin's reactions to what was being said between master and apprentice.

_{I sense it, Padawan} Qui-Gon sent, slowly moving into a sitting position.  Noticing the tense lines of his apprentice's shoulders, he leaned forward and gently massaged them.  Concern laced his mental voice when he 'spoke' again.  __{I'm worried about you, Obi-Wan.  You are not healing at your normally rapid rate.  You should rest.  I can stay awake and keep watch.}_

Obi-Wan turned so that Qui-Gon could see his shadowed profile.  _{I appreciate your concern, Master, but you need not waste your energy worrying about me.}_

Qui-Gon saw a small smile come to the young man's face and awaited the appearance of one dry sense of humor that he knew all too well.

{I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi.  I know every healer in the galaxy and I also know the name of every single bone in the human body, seeing as I've broken virtually all of them.}

The apprentice paused and turned completely to see the concern etched into his beloved master's face, light from the dying fire dancing across his features.  He hated causing his master distress and that seemed to be exactly what he was doing at the moment.  _{I _will _get better, I always do.  But the sooner we're off this planet, the sooner I'll heal.}  _There was a pause and stretch of silence along the bond before he added,_ {should we investigate the disturbance?}_

_{Of course.  Stay here with the camp.  I'll take Garen and Marie.}_

Qui-Gon rose, looked down at Marie and tapped her gently with the toe of his boot.  "Get up," he said softly but with absolute authority, "I know you're awake."

Grumbling softly, Marie rubbed her eyes and stood.  With a nudge from her boot, Garen joined them a moment later.

"What's going on?" he asked, unconsciously mimicking Marie's actions from just a moment ago.

"The Force," Qui-Gon replied simply.

Both Padawans' eyes closed partly as they opened themselves fully to the mystical power, feeling it swirl around and within them.  The disturbance was found quickly, as its level of intensity continued to grow.

Waving one hand to take in their surroundings, Qui-Gon told them to split up and search the surrounding area for trouble or anything suspicious.  "Keep your sabers close," he told them seriously, letting his eyes roam over Garen, then Marie, and finally Obi-Wan.  The latter nodded imperceptibly.

Obi-Wan watched his companions move off in different directions and disappear into the night, then struggled to his feet and dragged himself towards the speeder bike that they had left by the spring.  Halfway there he froze, a tickling sensation running along his spine that could only mean he was being watched…by someone very unexpected.

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Marie finished inspecting her area quickly and allowed the Force to lead her to where she sensed Qui-Gon's strong Force signature.  When the tall man finally came into view, she spotted another person coming up behind him.

_Garen, she realized after a moment, trying to calm her jumping nerves.  The disturbance was becoming stronger with each passing second.  Watching Garen lean towards Qui-Gon, then point in the direction of the path they had traveled along to get here, she arrived just in time to catch the last thing Garen said—_

"I can't believe it…It's him!"

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Obi-Wan forced his leg muscles to obey his commands and move, taking him to the bike as swiftly and smoothly as he could manage.  With his left hand resting lightly on the hilt of his weapon, he sat behind the bike and looked up, straining to see through the dark.  A figure appeared—small, slim…and very familiar.  No matter how hard he tried, Obi-Wan could not suppress the small gasp that slipped past his lips.  Walking through the shadows and coming towards him with a smile whose light could rival the brightness of Tatooine's suns, the figure stopped in the light of the fire and gave a toothy grin.

"Obi!" it exclaimed, nearly trembling from excitement.

Obi-Wan gaped.  _"Yuko?"_

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"That's not him."

Both Garen and Marie cast dubious looks at Qui-Gon. If anyone had known the little eight-year-old better than his father while he had been alive, it was Garen and Marie.  Where did Qui-Gon get off telling them they were wrong!

"Look closer," the Jedi Master said, sensing his companions' objections.

Garen and Marie reached out with their 'other' eyes and hands, studying every inch of the figure as it followed something seemingly invisible to the spring.  The older of the two Padawans present felt the difference first.  Wary, he turned to Qui-Gon.  "His Force signature—"

"Is different," Marie finished, picking up on the subtle abnormality.

Qui-Gon nodded, moving rapidly towards the camp before unexpectedly changing directions and heading towards the spring where he felt his apprentice had scurried to.  The perfect copy of the young, _deceased Yuko Mutun could be seen closing the distance between himself and the Padawan._

"He is a clone," the elder Jedi explained quickly, not needing to look over his shoulder to know the two apprentices were close behind.  Tremors pulsed through the Force, danger and Dark Side emotions dimming the white-hot glow of the Light Side.  The three Jedi broke into a run as they drew closer to the camp.  The danger was prominent now, tangible.  Behind them, the single sun of Choet began to prepare itself for its ascension of the new day.  Before them, the copy of Yuko drew exceedingly closer to the injured apprentice.

_{No!  Obi-Wan!} Three mental voices shouted simultaneously as around them swarms of soldiers leapt from their hiding places and Yuko Mutun brandished a high powered blaster._


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Notes to come later.

  
_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

Enjoy!

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Chapter 20 

"Son of a Sith!"

Obi-Wan rambled off at least a dozen more swears as he purposely tumbled over the speeder bike backwards at the sight of the soldiers—and the blaster that had suddenly materialized in Yuko's small hand.  One tiny scream of pain slipped past his lips before he bit his tongue.  In his haste to get behind the bike, he'd partly landed on his broken ankle.

An onslaught of unexpected mental yells calling his name nearly deafened him.  Agitated, he quickly shot back, _{All right already!  I hear you!}_

Gasping from the pain that still shot up from his ankle and holding a hand to the burns on his side that had unceremoniously been aggravated he lay still, trying to catch his breath until a well-aimed shot sent dirt flying into his face.  His short lack of attention of the matter at hand allowed his injured leg to be hit.  It immediately went limp, useless now thanks to a stun bolt shot by none other than Yuko.

At least it doesn't hurt now, the young man thought sarcastically.

Grumbling something about the lack of honor in battles during his day and age, Obi-Wan rolled to his stomach, wincing when his burns brushed across the ground, and started to crawl towards his cousin's abandoned bag.  She had left it tied to the bike.  Inside, Obi-Wan knew he should find her blaster, which he desperately needed seeing as his lightsaber was all but useless in his current circumstances.

When one blaster bolt came just _a little too close_ for comfort to his hand, he used the Force to start the speeder bike's engine and commanded it to move forward at the same, agonizingly slow pace as himself so that it could be used as a shield.  Just as he reached into the bag and pulled out the blaster, a wild shot impacted with his cousin's possession and ignited a set of papers that contained information about Antiyo.  The fire began to spread quickly, feeding greedily on the tall prairie grass and heading towards their camp.

With another string of swears that was composed of over five languages frolicking across the tip of his tongue, Obi-Wan literally threw himself on the speeder bike and gunned the engine, nearly sliding off in the process.  He had no idea where he was headed to, but if the Force cared to torture him again in the future, then it would lead him safely to his comrades.

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 Qui-Gon came to an abrupt, sliding halt, just barely giving the Force a chance to warn the two teens behind him.  Garen, whom had been right at his heels, nearly ran into the master but twisted at the last moment to land on the Jedi's right side.  Marie quickly leapt to Qui-Gon's left and the three went back to back as laser bolts from the enemy's blasters began to rain down on them.  Qui-Gon risked a glance in the direction he'd last seen his apprentice, surprised and worried to see he was no longer there, and nearly took a blast straight in his main saber hand because of it.  He flicked his wrist up at the last possible moment so that it left only a small trail of burnt flesh behind.

From his right, Qui-Gon suddenly felt a strange emptiness.  Sure enough, when he called Garen's name the boy didn't answer.  Frustrated, he moved over slightly so he would be able to feel Marie behind him.  In the distance, Garen's purple lightsaber chopped and blocked repeatedly.

What is he thinking! Qui-Gon growled to himself.

The young man still had so far to go to overcome his biggest weakness: Restlessness.  It seemed the stillness exercises Clee had given him hadn't worked as well as she'd thought—Garen was still too impatient to let the fight come to him.

"Ah, Master Jinn?" Marie asked hesitantly.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon asked, backing up to her a little more.

"It's two things actually."

A blaster bolt whizzed past her ear, forcing Qui-Gon to bring his weapon over his head to deflect it while at the same time making sure he didn't decapitate the young woman.

"Concentrate, Little One."

"Of course, Master, but uh—"

"Well spit it out!" the Jedi Master said tersely, aggravated by Garen's foolish move and the fact that he was deflecting nearly half of the shots that belonged to Marie as well as his own.

"You're stepping on my cloak!" Marie exclaimed.

Doing his best not to blush, Qui-Gon stepped off the young Jedi's cloak and resumed his fighting.

Marie sighed deeply in relief and began to make up for all the shots she had missed.  _"Thank you," _she gushed, blowing her breath out.

Qui-Gon nodded, although he knew she couldn't see him.  "Was there something else you wanted to tell me, Little One?"

"Yes—_Fire!"_

Qui-Gon looked sharply to his left and saw that indeed there was a fire—a fire he had previously mistaken as the one in their camp, but he quickly came to realize that it was _on their camp—all over it in fact—and devouring it like a famished wampa._

"Obi-Wan…" he murmured, sweat glistening along his furrowed brow.

_Oh, where was Obi-Wan?_

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

A flash of white caught Garen's eye as he lunged forward to block a rapidly approaching bolt.  Something—he wasn't quite sure—lured him to the area the brief glimpse of color had come from.  Without a word to his comrades, he darted towards the spot and was shocked to discover Obi-Wan laying behind the speeder bike, a blaster in one hand and his unignited saber in the other.  The older apprentice looked into the face of his childhood friend, illuminated a plum color from his weapon, and audibly sighed in relief.

"Thank the Force.  I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep them from advancing with only a blaster."

"Your lightsaber—"

"Won't do me much good if I can't even stand up on my own, now will it?  I think I destroyed any of the healing the bone in my ankle had done a few minutes ago.  Not to mention Yuko blasted me with a stun bolt.  It has about as much life in it right now as a rock, and I don't mean the one Qui-Gon gave me for my thirteenth birthday either," he added with a grimace.

Garen frowned, making a mental note to tell Obi-Wan a little later what Qui-Gon had concluded about the boy that had suddenly appeared.

"All right then, Kenobi," he growled softly instead, preparing himself for the inevitably long battle ahead.  "Stay behind that bike and I'll see how long I can hold them off."

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Antiyo pried his eyes away from the micro-night binoculars he held just long enough to take the proffered message away from the lackey that presented it.

Everything was going perfect: his troops had blocked access to the valley from the main path and had either scaled the mountain side or boarded silent air crafts that hovered just out of view until it was time for the ambush to begin.  The Jedi may have realized something was wrong, but not even the great Qui-Gon Jinn had figured it out until too late.  His four enemies had been separated, and with over 100 well-trained soldiers, Antiyo knew they wouldn't last long, especially when reports indicated that one of the _stupid apprentices was already incapable of fighting before the battle even began because of an injury.  And as an added plus, a fire had suddenly and unexpectedly been aroused and was quickly spreading throughout the valley.  Although it blocked the main path, cutting off a fourth of his soldiers, it also guaranteed that the Jedi's only means of escape was destroyed.  If he was lucky, they would throw themselves off the side of the mountain in an attempt to escape, where they would either be shot by one of his soldiers or sliced into unrecognizable shards by the sharp boulders below._

Yes, he thought with a smirk, looking down at the message.  There was no hope for the Je—

Antiyo practically choked on the very air he breathed as the text on the message sank in.

With eyes bulging and his jaw quite close to dragging along the floor he crumpled the note up and ran to the east viewport of his modest sized ship.  Pulling his micro-night binoculars back up to his eyes, he scanned the sky above them.

An unidentified vessel had somehow managed to sneak up behind the Togorian warship stationed on the planet's East Side.  With some crafty maneuvering it had led them on a small chase, and then suddenly it had flipped and turned to face them, coming to an abrupt halt.  By the time the Togorians had realized what was happening and stopped their ship, it was already too late—they had walked straight into one of their own mine traps.  Now they were floating around in space in a quickly 'dying' ship because of a few, precise shots fired from the other vessel that left them with no operating systems.

The unidentified vessel—a Corellian ship being the only thing they knew—was presumably coming their way according to the reports of its last sighting.

Cursing, Antiyo hurried over to his ship's pilot and pointed a long, thin finger to the fight below.  "Set this ship down _now!" he barked, checking his blaster's charge and reaching for more weapons from a nearby cart full of deadly items._

"I want those Jedi dead and their heads presented to me on a platter by morning.  Even if I have to do it myself!"

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Siri clutched the arms of her chair with white knuckles and looked cautiously at the Jedi Master beside her, afraid that if she moved too quickly she may lose her dinner.  Their pilot was swerving, dipping, stalling, and generally jerking his small Corellian freighter around like a mad man.  Despite the green tint to her cheeks, she found herself having fun.  It wasn't everyday she got to fly under the grace of such a talented pilot and she loved adventure, even if Adi sometimes chastised her for liking it too much.

"Adventure a Jedi seeks not," her master would lecture, mimicking Master Yoda's lessons.

Biting her lower lip, Siri resisted the urge to belch as the pilot jerked his ship straight up.  She had an idea where it would lead her if she did—

_Crazy ship maneuvering leads to an upset stomach.  An upset stomach leads to belching.  Belching leads to vom—_

"We're through!"  The pilot grinned in just the way Siri imagined a mad man would and adjusted a few controls as he pushed the ship's steering mechanism forward, causing them to dive rapidly and begin their descent towards the planet's surface.  He turned to Clee, whose orange eyes seemed duller than usual, a tiny hint of green draped across her smooth visage.  "Good to see you're still with me," the pilot laughed.

"It's been fun…really," the Jedi Master replied, grimacing slightly.  Slowly she uncurled her fingers from the armrests they had been clenched to, leaving indentations from her fingernails.  "And although I hate to spoil this joyride, we really need to find our companions.  We just need to figure out where to look."

"How's that place for starters?"

Clee leaned as far forward as her restraint harness would allow and looked in the general direction the pilot was pointing in.  Although still far off in the distance, a large fire and hundreds of laser bolts being shot back and forth could easily be seen.

The woman frowned.  "Qui-Gon sure knows how to attract trouble.  Or perhaps it's that pretty little Padawan of his."

"No," Siri blurted out, "Obi-Wan attracts only two things—Girls and pain.  Qui-Gon attracts trouble.  So you see, Obi-Wan attracts the girls, which Qui-Gon then attracts the trouble from and when those two combine, you're virtually always going to have pain."

Clee's orange eyebrows shot up.  "Uh, thank you for that interesting bit of—_information_—Siri."

Turning back to the viewport she asked, "Captain, how long until we get there?"

"Ten standard minutes, give or take a few.  How long until the sun comes up and exposes us?"

Clee smiled sarcastically.  "Ten standard minutes, give or take a few."

The captain grinned to himself and slowly shook his head, amused.  _Jedi these days…_

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

_Block, jab, duck, roll, twist…_

Marie repeated the maneuvers in her head, dancing to her right just as three soldiers fired simultaneously at the spot she had been standing in only a few nano-seconds ago.  She and Qui-Gon had given up fighting back to back awhile ago.  There had just been too many soldiers.  Their opponents had slowly joined together, and now confident in their numbers—and the fact they had the Jedi cornered—they began to advance quickly.

Spinning once to her left, Marie disarmed a soldier that had come too close for comfort. In a blur of blue-green light she ducked, rolled to her left, came up and disarmed two more soldiers, then somersaulted over the heads of a dozen surprised troops.  Using their pause to her advantage, she dropped to the ground and kicked the legs out from under four of the men.  Once back on her feet, she twirled her lightsaber with both hands, disarming another man before lunging forward and just brushing the tip of her weapon against two of the men's belts.  Their trousers dropped around their feet, keeping them occupied for the moment on something other than Marie.

Seven down, five to go… 

Performing a tight back flip, she landed behind the soldiers that were so close she could literally feel their heavy breath upon her neck.  A high split-kick knocked two more to the ground and a strong Force-push that required much of her waning strength sent the remaining three skidding along their bottoms until they crashed into the cliff wall.

Marie, panting from the exertion, took a moment to wipe the sweat from her eyes and ready herself as the next wave of soldiers surrounded her.  As she regretted having left her blaster in her bag—which was now surely nothing but ashes—she realized grimly that if they didn't find a way out of this mess soon, she wouldn't get the chance to complain about the UJP's lack of teaching cooperation.  Although at the moment, that particular topic sounded quite trivial, as she was sure none of the soldiers cared to cooperate with her…

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nearby, Qui-Gon fought with a ferocity he hadn't used in quite a few years.  The experienced Jedi Master used his surroundings more so than his Padawan's cousin, but the advantage it gave him was only slightly better.  Not as agile as he had been in his younger days, Qui-Gon relied more on strategy and the Force instead of acrobatics.

Purposely allowing himself to be backed into the cliff wall, Qui-Gon waited for his opponents to make their move.  When they finally decided to charge him, he smiled slightly, because the Force had told him that was exactly what they were going to do.  With a rather simple leap, made stronger half by pure muscle and half by the Force, he soared over the heads of the two dozen soldiers currently pursuing him.  Before they could think do to anything, he had disarmed eight of the soldiers and hit seven more with such a strong Force suggestion to sleep that they would be snoozing like babies until the middle of next week.  In a risky move, he rushed headlong into the remaining group of nine and hoped that what had worked so many times before in other fights would work again.  Experience paid off when the startled soldiers quickly ducked out of the way and made a path for him.  Qui-Gon used this to his advantage.  Simultaneously, he Force pushed three into each other and disarmed four.  The last two soldiers looked at the Jedi, then to each other and finally retreated in the opposite direction, looking for easier prey.

Releasing his anxieties he felt for his three charges into the Force, Qui-Gon sent reassurance along his bond with Obi-Wan, hoping he would pass it onto the other apprentices.

What he received in return did not encourage him.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Hey Garen?"

"Yeah Obi?"

"Any regrets?  Because we may not make it out of this one alive."

Garen grunted, blocking a shot that was only a few feet short of being at point-blank range and felt the jolt from it travel up the entire length of his arm.  Changing the foot that he led with and placing his right hand at the top of his saber hilt, he gave his main saber hand a rest.  The jolt along his left arm caused it to quiver slightly.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied finally, his casual tone making it sound like they were talking about the weather.  "I guess I regret never getting to kiss a girl."

"Any chance you regret not being able to kiss a _certain_ girl?"

The younger Jedi blushed despite the circumstances, but didn't say anything, which made his comrade take it as a yes.

Obi-Wan paused before saying anything else to poke his head over the battered and scorched seat of the speeder bike, firing a round of laser bolts.  On the eleventh shot, nothing happened and he threw the blaster aside, its energy shell wasted and empty.  Twisting, he dropped onto his back with an audible _THUMP!_

"Yeah well, I think she'll regret it too if something happens to us."

Garen thrust upward with his weapon, deflecting two blasts and sending them back to where they had come from.  One soldier went down with a yell when he was hit by his own shot in the thigh.

"Do you really think so?" Garen asked as he twirled and disarmed one soldier who appeared on his right.

The older apprentice ignited his lightsaber and rolled onto his stomach so that he could see the soldiers advancing towards them.  Silently he hoped two saber blades would discourage them, but if anything it egged them on.  They wanted the privilege of saying they'd defeated a Jedi.

"She'd never tell you that," Obi-Wan grunted, stretching his arm out to deflect a blaster bolt and wondering why in the galaxy they were talking about such an odd topic during such an exhausting fight—which, he realized, they were slowly losing.  "She'd never tell you, just like you'd never tell her, but it's obvious."

Garen looked back at his friend briefly, a sheepish smile on his face, and nearly dropped his weapon in surprise.

"Obi-Wan, lookout!" he exclaimed, as a soldier ran up behind them, catching the two young men completely off guard.

Obi-Wan looked back just in time to kick the soldier in his solar plexus with his right foot.  With the wind knocked out of him, the soldier went down and Obi-Wan turned to thank his companion—only to see another soldier appear at Garen's back and pull the trigger of his blaster.

_"No!" the young Jedi screamed as he watched his friend collapse to the ground with boneless movement.  He lay unmoving as a group of 20 or more soldiers closed in on them._

It just so happened that at that very moment, reassurance wafted along the training bond.  Obi-Wan could send nothing but distress in return as he was hauled roughly to his feet.


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's  notes to come later._

  
_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

Enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

Chapter 21 

_Roses are red—*Block*___

_Violets are blue—*Duck*___

_Dirt may taste bad—*Grunt*___

_But it'll have to do!—*Spin*___

Qui-Gon recited the little rhyme to himself as he dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way of the half dozen soldiers who had tried to dog pile on top of him.  It was just an amusing rhyme he, Tahl, and Clee had come up with during their initiate days, but it proved as a healthy reminder than when all else failed, one could rely on their surroundings.  Scooping his callused hand into the dark soil disturbed by their fight, Qui-Gon pulled out a large handful of dirt and promptly threw it at his opponents, stopping them—momentarily—in their tracks.

Backing away from the group of men who clawed at the dirt in their eyes and spit the gritty matter out of their mouths, Qui-Gon wiped a hand across his own lips, discovering blood and wondering where it had come from.  It had been only moments ago that he had received the disturbing mental response from his apprentice and he still had no idea what it meant except that something was very, very wrong.

Watching the soldiers, Qui-Gon saw that most of them had recovered and prepared himself to fight again.  Force he was tired…His old bones couldn't take this sort of beating anymore.  Every movement he made seemed bent on reminding him that he was no longer a dashing, young Knight.  Well, perhaps he was still dashing, but—

Suddenly, the soldiers parted and who else should walk through the newly made path than Marie—with Lipa and Tunny striding purposely behind her, blasters pointed at the back of her head, sweat dampened hair clinging to her face.  A thin, bloody line ran from a small wound above her left eye.  Shame and humility practically radiated from her aura as she ducked her headand refused to make eye contact with the Jedi Master.

Even from all she had been through that night, her demise had been brought about by a rock—a common, medium-sized rock that had been thrown by a soldier previously knocked unconscious by a Force-push.  She had walked straight into it while attempting to step out of the path of an onslaught of at least a dozen laser bolts, and had been stunned long enough to get five blaster muzzles pointed at her head.  If _anyone_ heard about this, she'd surely be defaced and kicked out of the UJP to become a farmer.  That way, the only rocks she'd have to worry about would be the ones in her fields.

Assuming she lived that long, of course.

Only Force knew what would happen to her now that she had been caught—and she wasn't even thinking ahead to Antiyo.  She knew Lipa wanted a piece of her first.

The aforementioned grinned, obviously pleased with himself, and waved his plaster up and down near Marie's ear.  "C'mon down, Master Jedi," he sneered to Qui-Gon, then added, "don't try anything either or the doll gets it."

Marie bristled slightly at being called a doll, but winced when Lipa rapped his blaster against her skull.  She struggled briefly against Tunny's hold on her arms behind her back, but stopped and involuntarily flinched when Lipa raised his weapon again.

"Wait!"

Qui-Gon held up his hands and deftly tossed his lightsaber behind him.  There was a small waver in the Force as a series of noises sounding very much like a saber handle falling down a mountainside reached everyone's ears and all eyes turned towards the sound.

Except the Jedi, that is.

Marie looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes and saw a faint sparkle.  She kept her grin to herself.

Two nameless soldiers stepped forward, and patted Qui-Gon down in search of more weapons before taking his cloak away from him, wary of hidden pockets.  Marie had discarded hers quite a long time ago when it began to slow her down.

Lipa pulled another blaster from a holster hanging low on his waist and pointed it at Qui-Gon, making sure to keep the other trained on Marie.  "Walk.  And stare straight ahead.  No funny Jedi tricks, understand?" he commanded, pushing Qui-Gon forward and stepping behind him with his other prisoner.  "Or Miss.Ceal Verune here gets it.  I can't possibly imagine how you would explain a hollow skull with splattered, dried brain in it to your precious Council."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes briefly, looking for his calm center.  _I'd say they have the upper hand…_

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Obi-Wan opened his eyes slowly, feeling perspiration slide past his temple and cheek before trickling off his chin.  He was close to the fire, could easily feel its radiating heat against his skin, but he wasn't the one who could reach out and touch it—_if _that someone woke up to do so, that was.

Garen still remained unconscious, bonelessly sagging in the strong arms of a large bodyguard of Antiyo's just a few feet or so from the fire, the guard using Garen's limp form as a shield against the heat.

Luckily, the shot Garen had been hit with pierced his shoulder and nothing more, but it was still enough to knock him out cold.  Before Obi-Wan could react to this, a blaster was placed against his head and Antiyo Ganfor's long, ugly nose had been pushed against his much smaller and better-proportioned one.

The greeting had been easy enough—just a simple "Hello again, Kenobi"—and he had been pulled roughly to his feet by his much loved Padawan braid.  Despite the violent cries of agony that had emitted from his broken ankle when he'd been forced to walk on it—or else be shot and dragged—Obi-Wan did his best not to let the pain show.  Until Antiyo purposely kicked his feet out from him and the pain became too much.  A sound of absolute agony flew past his lips, sounding foreign, even to his own ears.  Antiyo had smiled at the blood-curdling scream, however, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply at the sound as though he was breathing in the first breath of spring.

Now, with Garen close enough to the fire to merely be dropped and immediately consumed by it, Obi-Wan unconsciously flinched.  Although the bond he shared with him was only a friendship bond, usually just strong enough to occasionally communicate telepathically, Obi-Wan could feel every little spot that was slowly being burnt by the heat, particularly his hand.

Suddenly, figures appeared through the swarm of soldiers and the apprentice heard a faint message.

_I'd say they have the upper hand._

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, despite the situation.  _{And I'd say that's a slight understatement, Master.}_

Qui-Gon took in the sight around him quickly— 

Garen was unconscious and dangerously close to the flames that licked the countryside; Marie was restrained and held at point-blank range; Obi-Wan was deeply injured, still trying to overcome the throbbing pain that emitted from his abused ankle and also in close proximity to the flame; and there had to be at least 65 well-trained and armed soldiers left.  The Jedi Master mentally shook his head and sighed softly.  He himself was injured from numerous blaster burns and felt exhaustion creep into his very bones, once again reminding him that he was no longer a young and boisterous calfling nerf.  Still, all he needed was one brief moment of distraction for the guards to be able to harness the Force and call his weapon to him from where he had dropped it in a nearby bush. 

_{Any ideas, Padawan?}_

_{None.}_

_{And Marie?}_

There was a pause.

{She's closed herself off to me.  Something about a rock and moisture farming on Tatooine…}

Qui-Gon raised one bushy eyebrow.  _{Curious…} was all he could manage in response._

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Garen came to realize he felt like Sith as he slowly pulled out of unconsciousness and drifted back to the world of coherent thoughts.  His very own first coherent thought was, of course, pain, which was very quickly replaced by heat—smoldering, blazing, _burning_ heat.  Groaning softly, he stirred and immediately felt intense pain radiate up from his shoulder before the sensation of burnt flesh hit him.  Looking down, he saw his right hand being held out over the open flame and jerked back.  After a few more weak attempts his hand was dropped and he heard a soft chuckle near his ear.

"Stupid Jedi…"

Somewhere behind him, the young man heard a familiar voice call out his name, telling him to wake up and run before it was too late, but the shout was suddenly interrupted by a pained, choked cry.

Garen's head lolled slowly to the side.  Hesitantly he opened his eyes to see a large, blurry man kicking his childhood friend.  "Obi-Wan," he moaned softly, feeling a pulsing sensation along his right hand.  Looking down, he saw that it was blistered and burned severely, but his still muddled mind could not yet register the pain that was inevitable.

Glancing around at his surroundings, Garen took in the sight of Obi-Wan curled into a tight ball, trying to protect himself from the onslaught of at least half a dozen soldiers who had taken it upon themselves to help their friend kick the living Sith out of the young Jedi.  Nearby he spotted Marie staring wistfully at three cylindrical items tucked into the belt of Antiyo's guard, Lipa.  The young woman shot her friend a fleeting glance before one of the weapons was suddenly yanked from Lipa's belt.  Before her saber could reach her, however, Tunny violently slapped her and popped her behind the knees with one steel-toed boot.  She dropped quickly to the ground, face scrunched up and jaw clenched tightly.

Where was Qui-Gon? the apprentice thought abruptly, concerned of what the answer might be.

Suddenly, he spotted him in the group near Marie.  The Jedi Master was using the distraction to his advantage and with one hand thrust outward, called his weapon to him from a nearby bush that had yet to be swallowed by the flames.  The handle flew almost casually towards Qui-Gon's large hand and brushed against it, the blade igniting…right before a well-aimed shot knocked it away.  The weapon sizzled slightly and the blade retracted, its internal components temporarily disabled by the charge from the laser bolt, leaving the Jedi helpless to the severity of his captors who proceeded to beat him with their own weapons or whatever they could find.  Qui-Gon was lost in a sea of limbs.

Unexpectedly, someone grabbed Garen and yanked his right arm tightly behind his back, sending new waves of pain up from his hand.  The person backed away from the fire, dragging Garen with him, until retrieving a razor sharp vibro-shiv and placing it roughly against his throat.  Two small trickles of blood oozed out from behind the weapon.  The cheek of Antiyo Ganfor brushed along Garen's neck as the deranged medic spoke, his voice soft as he cooed almost sensually to his prisoner.

"Tell me, _Pa-da-wan, have you ever heard the story of the little Jedi who liked to stick her nose in other people's business?  She enjoyed playing dress up and making false identities.  Surely you have.  She had a cousin—such a strapping, promising young man—whom was also a Jedi.  Young Temple initiates revered his master very much._

"Sadly, the three were killed on a mission.  Their deaths were slow and very tragic, very painful.  As a matter of fact, a play was made recently about their deaths, and—whaddaya know—it's opening night!  Unfortunately, _you_ won't be there to see it."

Garen thought he could almost hear the movements of the medic's lips as they curled into a sneer.  He closed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths, waiting for the rest of his captor's speech.

"It really is a shame because you are such a handsome young man, but we need your _head as a prop.  You see, this young, female Jedi had a friend whom was actually much more than that, much more, even if the two would never admit to it.  He died in a freak accident the night before the other Jedi's deaths when he was unceremoniously beheaded by his own weapon.  The prop for the play hasn't arrived, so I'm improvising."_

The silky voice no longer sounded quite as sensual as it hissed out the last three words.  An unnamable soldier stepped forward and took hold of the young Jedi as Antiyo retrieved Garen's weapon from Lipa.  Pushing his face close to his prisoner's, Antiyo gestured towards the east where faint, pink lines were beginning to glide gracefully across the sky.

"Enjoy the sunrise, _Padawan," he purred softly.  "It may very well be your last."_

Finally opening his eyes again, Garen looked to his friends.  Obi-Was was still curled in a ball—although his captors had stopped their abuse—and had one pale hand stretched towards him as though the movement of any other part of his body would bring about too much pain.  Shadows from the fire flickered across his face, dancing with a mind of their own.  Qui-Gon, still as strong looking as ever, raised a bloodied and bruised face when he felt the apprentice's eyes on him and tried to offer one last small, supportive smile.  Between the two, still resting on her knees if one could use such a word, was Marie.  Garen watched as her full, blood red—or perhaps just bloodied—lips parted and formed the words, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," came his response, quickly but playing out in slow motion.  Remembering Antiyo's words he finally turned away, no longer able to hold her gaze.  He wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault and that he should be thankful that she had been here, or else he might not have survived as long as he did; but it didn't look like he would get the chance.  Those two words would have to do.

But oh, how he would regret not telling her!  He wanted to tell her everything, everything that had ever crossed his mind when he had laid his eyes on her! 

Beside him he heard his lightsaber spring to life and angle towards his throat, the sound comforting and terrifying all at once.  Deep brown eyes drifted lazily towards the rapidly rising sun.

How beautiful, he thought as time seemed to slow.  He sighed softly and touched the Force for what he thought would surly be the last time here in the world of the living, of flesh and blood.

He was a Jedi for Force sake! _ How could it end like this?_

The glint of defiance slowly came back to Garen's eyes.  _Yes, I am__ a Jedi.  And I will face death…as a Jedi…_

Garen felt as though he was prepared for death by the time the simmering heat of his weapon's blade whispered dangerously close, but as it drew closer, he wondered if he would ever be ready—

And then suddenly he could no longer see the sun and a huge vessel appeared before him, its features dark save a thin halo around its edges.  Vaguely he was aware of the sound of war cries—all strangely feminine—and the roar of hundreds of running feet as a flurry of motion began around him.  His attention was focused completely on that large, mysterious vessel as something resembling a boarding ramp slowly lowered and two figures appeared, both of medium height, female, and brandishing glowing weapons of purple light.  Short cropped, golden hair appeared atop the delicate head of one of the angels—because that must surely be what they were—and a flurry of bright, orange hair graced the other.

So this is what death feels and looks like, the young man thought dreamily, wondering why he still felt pain from his injuries.

The angel with orange hair stretched one hand towards him.

{I sure hope not Kid, because if this is death, then we're all in some serious bantha poodoo.}

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Clee Rhara felt worry crawl across her skin like a colony of tiny ike-eaters. After more than a year of no contact with her beloved apprentice, she was enthralled to see him again, but his condition did not look good. 

"Stay here, Siri, I'm going down to help them.  Protect the ship and lower it enough for us to get on when I tell you to."

"But Master Rhara—" the younger Jedi tried.  It was too late, however, as the Jedi Master had already leapt to the ground and Siri was forced to bring her blade up and block a wayward shot.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Clee pushed her way through the jostling crowd of fighters as quickly as she could.  Just as they had been preparing to set the ship down, a surging crowd of over 300 women—all dressed similarly in rags or animal skins—had burst into the valley, either charging through the fire or coming up from the sides of the mountain.  What had been even more surprising than this was when the women had attacked the soldiers instead of the Jedi.  Ignoring for the moment what was taking place around her, Clee ran to the spot where she had last seen her apprentice.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Qui-Gon broke away from his captors as soon as the ship—and the women—had materialized onto the scene.  Not even bothering to question the Mountain Women's motives—whom he had learned about from a few documents in Marie's now fire destroyed bag—Qui-Gon raced to his apprentice's side, ignoring his injuries and calling his lightsaber back to him as he did so.

Obi-Wan felt as limp as a rag doll as Qui-Gon lifted him into his bruised arms, and with every running step he made towards the head of orange hair nearby, the young man would moan in agony.

Qui-Gon reached his fellow Jedi Master's side just as she swung her apprentice's limp right arm over her shoulders.  Garen was much too tall and heavy for her to carry.

"Where's Marie?" the younger Jedi asked.

"Right here," came the weary response.

The Jedi turned around to see Marie appear, her movements stiff as she hurried toward them.  In her hands, clutched protectively to her chest were the three Padawans' lightsabers.  "A farewell gift from Lipa," she explained with a tired smile.

Nodding, Clee waved her purple lightsaber in the air and the ship sped towards them, hovering slightly above the ground.  Dodging a flurry of blaster bolts, the Jedi boarded the ship with help from Siri.

[|||||||||||||o]::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Marie's booted feet barely touched the cool, silver floor of the Corellian vessel before it rocketed upward towards the planet's atmosphere.  While Garen and Obi-Wan were rushed to the ship's tiny infirmary and Siri hurried to the cockpit to assist the captain, Marie stumbled over to a viewport and pressed her hot, sticky forehead to it, allowing its coolness to refresh her as she closed her eyes for a brief second.  Upon opening them, she discovered herself watching the quickly shrinking battle below.  One figure in particular caught her eye.

With a mask resembling that of some wild, horned animal on her head, the woman was intimidating and fearsome to behold.  Marie watched as she retrieved an ancient sword from a fallen comrade and charged a man whose regal attire and manner of standing made it clear he felt he was of some significant importance.  Oddly enough, he made no attempt to move or fight back at the sight of the woman.  In the blink of an eye, the sword overtook him, running directly through that cold, black heart.  Marie found herself looking away as the man crashed to the ground.

Antiyo Ganfor took his last breath and lay still in a puddle of bright red.

Strangely, the young Jedi felt compelled to look back.  Shock registered on her exhausted, bruised features at the sight before her, and even years later, when the events of the last few days continued to plague her dreams, she would wonder whether or not what she had seen was real or a figment of her overly-enthusiastic imagination.

But she couldn't help but wonder, as the female warrior below pulled away the mask and waved her weapon in a half-saluting, half-triumphant shake, if the face and eyes shining up towards her were merely an illusion—or an identical reflection of those that had belonged to Yuko Mutun…


	22. Epilogue

_Author's Notes at bottom._

  
_See Chapter One for disclaimer_

Enjoy!

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Epilogue 

"I really wish there was something more we could do for you."

Garen Muln, sitting in the pilot's seat of the moderately sized Corellian freighter that was transporting him and his fellow Jedi back to Coruscant, looked up from the control panel.  His attention latched onto the hazel eyes of their captain and he silently commanded himself not to fidget.

"I'll admit—it's not everyday I just tell something to anyone, because you never know how they may manipulate it to use it against you, but I honestly feel I had a brush with death back there and I just wanted to—well—"

"S'okay, Kid," the captain said smiling, "no thanks necessary.  Anyway, I should be thanking you."

"Me?" Garen asked confused.

"Yeah, you and your other three crazy Jedi friends.  I was never one for hokey religions, but seeing what the four of you went through—the pain and danger…and the fact that you're still alive to talk about it—makes me wonder if perhaps I've been telling my son—and myself—a lie all these years.  Maybe, just maybe, there is something or someone out there watching over us.  And whether it's your Force or something else, we may never know, but I believe now that there is something in this universe greater than any of us can imagine."

Garen's eyes drifted lazily back to the controls of the ship.  He felt himself itching with the desire to fly again, but his injured left shoulder and burnt right hand, which was bound from wrist to finger tip in soft, bacta soaked bandages, would prevent him from doing so for a little while longer.  Finally, out of curiosity and politeness, he questioned the man.  "You have a son?"

"Yep," their captain replied, pride showing on his weathered features.  "He's not much younger than you—15—and just as good a pilot as myself.  Got mad when I told him he couldn't accompany me on my last run, but I received a message from him the day I picked your two female friends up.  He told me, 'Dad, I may still be mad at you, but I won't ever forget my promise'."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was the promise?" Garen ventured, his curiosity piqued.

Their captain's smile took on a sad underlining.  "His younger brother died not long after his fifth birthday in a speeder bike crash back on Corellia.  His promise is to give me a grandson named after his brother that died.  My youngest son's name was Han."

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn walked in as the pilot's cheerful grin returned, and settled himself wearily into a nearby chair.  The wounds on his face were all nearly healed by now, as well as the bruises on his arms and the blaster burns.  Addressing the younger Jedi, he informed him that Master Rhara would like an update on how his healing was progressing.  After thanking Qui-Gon and bowing to the cockpit's two occupants, Garen left to find his master.

Qui-Gon watched the young man go, then turned to the captain.  "Please forgive me," he began, "but I'm afraid we were never properly introduced.  Our departure was rather—"

"Rushed?"

"Yes," the Jedi chuckled, extending his hand.  "I am Qui-Gon Jinn.  And you are Captain—"

The other man took the proffered hand firmly in a handshake.  "Solo.  Captain Jacen Solo.  The pleasure's all mine I can assure you.  Glad I could have been of help."

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Garen didn't have to stop to think about where he would find his master as he exited the cockpit.  Sure enough, when he stopped and leaned against the doorway to the ship's small galley, he found Clee Rhara busily preparing a steaming pitcher of hot tea.

"What took you?" she asked good-naturedly, knowing without having to look that he was there.

When no response came, she left the tea she was preparing and strode quickly to his side, worry etched onto her features.  "Garen?" was all the Jedi Master could get out before the apprentice—suddenly looking very young and vulnerable—turned away from her.

"I failed you, Master," came the soft spoken voice of the younger Jedi as he turned back to her, tears glistening in his eyes as he fought valiantly to keep them from falling.  Slipping gracefully to his knees, Garen hung his head, shaking it lethargically from side to side and placing his hands upon his knees.

"Oh, Garen, no," Clee tried gently, but the apprentice was only aware of what he felt was his egregious failure.

"The mission was ruined from the moment I left the Temple.  I thought I could do it by myself; I—I was wrong.  Forgive me, Master.  I will accept with humility whatever punishment you find suitable."

Pursing her lips, Clee placed her hands on her hips before wrapping them around the young man's waist and—with a bit of help from the Force—hauling him to his feet and steering him to a nearby bench.

"Now," she said, clasping his chin in one hand and wiping away one distressed, ashamed tear that managed to slip through his defenses.  "We will have no more of this nonsense.  Understand, Kid?"

When no response came, Clee changed her voice to the no-nonsense tone she used when the situation was serious.  "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Garen Muln!  Good…"  She smiled when his liquid brown eyes found her face and her voice automatically softened to a more motherly tone.  "Listen to me, Kid—I don't know who you've been listening to, but it was obviously the wrong person.  I couldn't be more proud of you than I am right now.  Your mission was a success, and you impressed even Mace, the ol' blockhead…And the way you handled yourself all those months, especially the last few days, tell me you'll make a fine Jedi Knight someday.

"Remember, doubt is your first enemy.  Never doubt yourself, Kid. Besides, that young Marie Kenobi said you were quite brave throughout the entire ordeal and that you remained the picture perfect Jedi even as your own weapon was raised against you."

Clee paused momentarily in her praise and reassurance as Garen's cheeks flushed a soft pink.  Before she could question him, however, he thrust his tightly clenched, left fist towards her.

"Happy birthday, Master," he said quietly, opening his hand to reveal a beautiful necklace made of smooth, polished seashells.  Their hard exterior reflected soft pinks and silvers, giving the necklace an appearance that almost seemed to glow.

Clee took the gift appreciatively, love shining clearly in her eyes when she looked at her apprentice.  The Jedi Master had been born on a planet covered by magnificent beaches and cherished anything related to the sea, but not nearly as much as when it was given to her by the fine young man she so often referred to as simply "Kid".

"It's absolutely wonderful," she breathed, just before her brow etched in confusion.  "But where did you hide it all those months so it would not be taken or become lost?"

Garen laughed nervously.  "_That, _Master, would be better left unsaid."

Clee smiled and raised one thin, fiery orange eyebrow.  "_Oh, really?  _Better left unsaid, huh?" she teased, snatching her student into a hug.

Garen rolled his eyes at the intimate gesture.  "Yes, _really_," came the slightly embarrassed response.  The student began to awkwardly return his master's embrace when he suddenly thought of something and went limp in her grip.  "Uh, Master?"

"Yes, Padawan?"

"How—How do you know when you're really in love with someone and it's not just childish infatuation?"

As Garen finally returned the embrace, Clee Rhara found herself grateful that the young man could not see the gray hairs that suddenly seemed to emerge among her thick, orange curls.

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"…Eventually, the sheer number of soldiers that we were forced to face individually, plus our earlier fatigue and injuries sustained during the days before, allowed us to be captured.  Both Master Jinn and myself tried to retaliate, but both efforts proved to be futile.

"Just as Antiyo Ganfor prepared to behead Padawan Muln—with his own lightsaber—the ship that I am currently aboard appeared and we boarded amongst the flurry of fights that broke out suddenly on the planet.  An indigenous tribe, or rather group of women who have secluded themselves from civilization and are commonly referred to as the 'Mountain Women', arrived and began to do battle with Antiyo Ganfor's men.  It is my belief that part of their reason for coming was to help the Jedi."

Depa Billaba drummed her elegant fingers rhythmically on the armrest of her chair and studied the shimmering holo image standing in the center of the Council chamber.  "And why do you believe this?" she asked, speaking up for the first time since the debriefing of the mission had begun.

The shimmering figure turned in the direction it knew the master was in.  Marie Kenobi took a deep breath and organized her thoughts, knowing that only a few of the masters present would know her well enough to take her word.

"I sensed it," the young woman said defiantly, trying to overcome the uncertainty she felt when coming before the Jedi High Council and remembering the woman who had looked up at her as she rocketed away from the planet.  Marie was almost certain it had been Yuko's mother.

"Well, then, what _do you believe_ happened to Antiyo Ganfor?" Mace Windu asked.

"He was killed."

The senior Council member raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.  Marie knew the gesture well—it meant he was surprised by some new revelation.

"So sure are you?"

Marie turned to nod in Master Yoda's direction.  "Yes Master, I saw one of the woman warriors…run him through."

"Deceive you, your eyes can."

"I felt it," Marie replied quickly, knowing the little green troll would not be satisfied until then.

As Yoda nodded in acceptance, Marie returned her focus to Mace.

"Congratulations on a successful, first mission, Padawan Kenobi.  The Council, however, would like a more detailed report of the mission by the day after your return," he informed calmly.

"Thank you, Master.  The report will be ready upon my return.  I can transfer the data I have collected now, if you would like?"

The two senior Council members nodded and Marie retrieved her datapad, connecting it to the comm system in Captain Solo's private quarters.  When the Padawan looked up again, she was surprised to find some of the highly revered Jedi Masters smiling at her.

"There is one last matter at hand that needs to be taken care of."

Confusion flitted briefly across Marie's haggard face, still too tired from what had happened during the past week to figure out the "last matter" by herself.

"The Aktins wish to extend a heartfelt thank you.  They would like to take you, and the other three Jedi that became involved in the mission, out to eat the week after your return—if you are all up to it."

Out to eat?  As in at a fancy restaurant? she thought, panic-stricken as she recalled that the Aktins were never stingy with their money.

So that meant she would have to wear a dress again, right?

No, no, Marie thought stubbornly.  You're a Jedi again until your next mission deems otherwise.  No more evil dresses, at least not until the job description calls for it.  Just simple, comfortable tunics and pants.

With this calming thought in mind, the young woman mentally sighed and let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.  Tuning back into the Jedi Master whom was speaking, she was just able to pick up the last thing he said.

"…Marri would like to thank you as well."

"Marri?" Marie asked confused.

Jedi Master Jance Rees suddenly stepped into the line of the holoprojector, a tiny, squirming figure latched firmly to her boot and hidden behind the woman's legs.  Marie clearly saw the symbol of a crèche master on her sleeve and realized the older woman had found a new calling in life.  From around one of her boots, a head and one small, slightly chubby arm appeared.  The young child smiled and giggled softly at the shimmering image of Marie, whom grinned back in return.

Jance smiled and stepped closer to the transparent figure as Marri stretched her arm out further to wave it through the image, awed when it passed unharmed through the gray matter.

"Marie, meet Marri Aktins.  Marri, meet Marie Kenobi, the special Jedi from whom your name was derived."

Temporarily stunned, it took Marie a moment to find her voice.  "The Aktins named her after me?"

"Speak the obvious, you do," Yoda said, mischief lighting his eyes up.  "Thank the Aktins, you should.  But take care of yourself first, you must," the small master admonished, noticing the large cut above the young woman's left eye that still marred her features.

"Of course, Master.  I will do so soon."

"Stubborn like your cousin and his master, you are.  Permanent reminders of mistakes, not all battle wounds should be.  May the Force be with you."

Feeling admonished, but unable to keep the pleased grin from her face any longer, Marie bowed and moved to disconnect the connection.  "May the Force be with you…"

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"So I see you finally got your hot tea, Master."

Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled softly up at his master, his face stiff from the many scabs forming over the many scratches he had acquired.  Nodding, the Jedi Master collapsed good-naturedly into the chair beside his apprentice's sleep couch with a grunt and sipped lightly at his tea, scrutinizing the younger man as he did so.  The Padawan had been correct when telling his master he would heal faster once off that Force-forsaken planet.  Already some improvement could be seen in the healing of his broken ankle, although because the bone had been broken in two places and Captain Solo only carried one working bone-knitter, it would take awhile for it to heal completely.  The bone-knitter that did work was currently surrounding his right arm, which had been broken when the soldiers had so brutally kicked him.

The asphalt burn on his stomach that had been aggravated during the fight was healing again, this time protected by a thick, padded bandage that wound up to cover his chest and protect two ribs that had been bruised.  Nearly all of his scratches and bruises were healed, as Qui-Gon had given him extra energy while he performed his healing trances.  His concussion would be gone soon, as would his master's.

Qui-Gon pulled out of his stupor with a grin.  "Clee told me earlier that she was going to report me for child abuse."

Obi-Wan laughed softly, wary of stressing his ribs.  "And what did you say?"

"I said I was going to report the three of you to the Council for master abuse," Qui-Gon replied, referring to the three Padawans he had been in charge of during the past few weeks.  His eyes were alight with silent laughter, causing pure joy to rush through Obi-Wan's very soul until suddenly—and quite unexpectedly—a distant look appeared in the apprentice's eyes and the mood in the room tangibly darkened.

Reaching up carefully with his left hand, Obi-Wan brushed his fingers along the length of Qui-Gon's graying beard, before moving to gently caress a small lock of long, brownish-gray hair.  Slowly he let his hand fall to his Padawan braid where some of the very same hair was entwined with his own.

"Obi-Wan?" the Jedi Master asked concerned, abruptly pulling the warm cup away from his lips.  "Obi-Wan? Padawan mine, what is it?"

Slowly, like the last leaves of fall dropping from their haven on the tree, the blue-green eyes, forever engraved in Qui-Gon's heart, turned to face him.  For a moment the elder Jedi thought he saw horror written in the eyes that could say more than words ever could, but the emotion was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Never leave me, Master.  _Please…_"

Distressed and moved by the image of a hooded monster shrouded entirely in black, Obi-Wan reached almost desperately for his master's hand.  He didn't care if what he was feeling was un-Jedi-like; he _needed_ his master, needed to know—whether through his normal five senses or the Force—that Qui-Gon was near.

"Padawan," the master began, but was cut off when Marie and Siri Tachi stepped into the room.

"Bad time?" the former ventured tentatively.

Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice as he felt his hand quickly released.

"No, no, it's OK.  What is it?"  _{Master?}_

_{Yes, Padawan?}_

_{Thank you.}_

_{For what?}_

_{I'm not entirely sure.  Everything…nothing…Just—thank you.}_

_{Anytime, Padawan mine.  Anytime…}_

"Hey Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan turned to Siri as she flopped into a chair.  "Yes?"

"I thought Master Gallia said that pretty little face of yours wasn't messed up.  What happened?"  Siri scrutinized the bruises and scabs on his face, sarcasm adding an edge to her voice.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.  "Oh, ha, ha.  Sheesh, you're becoming more and more like Master Gallia everyday."

At this Siri brightened and flashed a mischievous grin in his direction.  Obi-Wan merely groaned, imagining the two talking behind his back and trying to think of ways to torture and embarrass him.

Clee and Garen arrived at about that moment with the latter carrying a tray of hot tea, which he quickly distributed.  While Marie relinquished her chair for the Jedi Master, unconsciously sidling over to stand next to Garen, Clee passed a teasing glance to her apprentice under long, thick eyelashes.  Garen flushed brightly, crossing his arms over his chest and striking the same pose as the young woman beside him.

Obi-Wan chuckled as he pulled his cup away from his mouth.  "Well, Garen?"

"Well, what?" he asked confused.

"Now's the chance.  Are you going to kiss her or not?"

Garen turned to Marie…Marie turned to Garen…and both Padawans blanched before their cheeks turned ruby red.

Marie, first to overcome the initial shock of it all, dropped her arms to her sides, spilling some of her tea in the process.  _"What did you say?" _she demanded, her mouth still slightly ajar.

"I'm going to kill you, Kenobi!" Garen added, momentarily forgetting the masters in the room.

Unfazed, Obi-Wan flashed one of his famous, irresistible grins.  "Haven't you two learned anything?" he asked, while Siri turned bright red in her attempt to hold in her laughter.  "Take chances!  Make mistakes!  Don't you know?  _You've got to live life to its fullest!_"

"I'm gonna live life to its fullest as soon as I get my hands on you," Marie growled, taking a menacing step towards her cousin.  Garen reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her back.

"Allow me," he murmured.

Qui-Gon chose that exact moment to stand and unceremoniously stretch, blocking his Padawan from view of the other two.  Although he and Clee were amused by the two apprentices currently being lectured by one of their own kind, he decided that perhaps it was his protégé's turn to be questioned.  "And what have _you_ learned from this, my _very young _apprentice?" Qui-Gon asked, purposely stressing 'very young'.

"Never trust a 17-year-old politician."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose slowly.  "And?"

"And…oh, yeah!  Of course!"  He laughed softly.  "No matter what the situation is, you have to remember that patience is key."

Marie, now sitting at a small table that Garen had stealthy followed her to, placed her chin in her hands and blew a stray lock of brown hair from in front of her eyes.  "You can say that again," she muttered sarcastically.

"No matter what the situation is—"

_"Shut it, Kenobi!"_

Obi-Wan just laughed harder… 

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The End.

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Well there we go!  It's over!  (And it only took me _how long_ to finish posting it??  LOL)  I want to send out a HUGE thanks to all of those who have reviewed and followed this story to its completion, especially Cerasi5 and Athena Leigh.  I hope everyone enjoyed the story and will find it in their hearts to review.  *Puppy dog eyes*  _Puhwease? _LOL  Anyway, I don't have any plans for another Star Wars story anytime soon, but I am working on a Lord of the Rings fic called Hope Immortal, so keep checking back with me to see if it's up.

Again, thank you so much everyone.  A story isn't a story unless it has people willing to read and comment on it.  ^_^

Tootles, adios, & ja ne until next time!

--Marie Kenobi


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